


The Peculiar Effect of Idol in the Summertime

by Emily Waters (missparker)



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-15
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 49,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missparker/pseuds/Emily%20Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Paula and Simon start something new late in the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Paula gets her act together

Paula was startled out of her doze by the sound of her own voice. It was coming from the television – she opened her eyes to see an episode of "Hey Paula" playing out before her. On the television, she was crying while her assistants looked uncomfortable and kept their mouths closed.

God. What a train wreck that had been. At the time, it had seemed like her ticket back into the good graces of Hollywood. Everyone had a reality show. Even Tyra Banks had become mega-successful and there was no way Paula was crazier than that lady. So why had her seven episodes from hell crashed and burned so severely?

She knew – bad editing, bad timing, and bad people. She'd fired almost all her staff and was trying it out the old fashioned way. One manager and one personal assistant. Randy had found her the new girl, Lauren. Paula had snatched her up. Lauren was turning out to be perfect. She was ambitious, young, organized and willful. Instead of keeping quiet and giving into Diva behavior (which, Paula could admit, happened every now and then), Lauren kept Paula focused on what was best for her career in a very no-nonsense manner.

Paula watched herself cry and shout on the show and groaned. She didn't even remember that day thanks to insomnia and new pain medication. She shut the TV off angrily and lay back in bed in the darkness. It was past midnight according to the clock on the nightstand. That was another thing Lauren had insisted on – enough sleep.

"I'm not sure how your sleeping patterns were before," Lauren had said in an obvious reference to the disastrous reality show, "but we're not going to be exhausted anymore."

Paula had gone off the pain medication and started Pilates in a more holistic approach to pain management and it was actually working. She was even dancing again. And, of course, the sleep helped too. Things were really looking up. In the morning, Lauren was coming to help her pack for San Diego where a new season of American Idol was set to kick off. She was excited. Randy had promised to bring some demos for her and having the routine of Idol would put this whole mess behind her.

Feeling confident, she let herself relax into sleep.

oooo

Paula was showered and dressed when Lauren arrived with the Starbucks. She was on her phone when she let herself into the house. Paula waved to her from the kitchen. It was another thing about Lauren that Paula liked. She wasn't star struck and hadn't been from day one. She had a degree in Public Relations and Paula had gambled by hiring someone right out of college but Paula knew she'd made the right choice. Lauren shut her phone and smiled.

"Hi," she said. "Here's your drink."

Paula took the offered cup and sipped it. It was decaf, of course, another Lauren rule that had drastically improved her sleeping pattern.

"Thanks," Paula said.

"Okay, first let's pack and hit the road and I can give you a schedule run down in the car," Lauren said already heading up the stairs. Paula shrugged and followed, basking in the feeling of being organized for once.

Packing was always difficult.

"We're taking two suitcases," Lauren said. "And maybe, MAYBE, a small one for shoes but it's only two days and a few hours away."

"I know," Paula said. "It's not a crime to be indecisive."

Lauren said nothing, but Paula could tell by the look on her face that she was pretty sure it was a crime. Finally they decided on what to bring and Paula finished putting on her make-up while Lauren hauled everything off into the car. In the past, she would have taken a limo, but they were expensive and, as Lauren pointed out, bad for the environment.

"Green is big now," Lauren had explained. "Not only is it important, but it's popular. It can only help your reputation." So now they drove where they could. Paula still insisted on a limo from the hotel to the auditions. It wouldn't do for Randy and Simon to show up in limos and her in a normal car.

Lauren drove while Paula checked her phone and e-mail messages from her iphone. The traffic on the 101 wasn't bad but once they hit the 5, everything slowed down.

"Are we going to be late?" Paula asked, glad for the tinted windows when she saw the car next to her trying to peer into the sleek, black Mercedes with no success.

"Fashionably, perhaps," Lauren admitted. "I think there's an accident up there."

"As long as we beat Simon," Paula muttered. His inability to be on time to anything bugged her.

"I'll do my best, boss," Lauren said, merging into the carpool lane. "Are you excited?"

"I guess," Paula said, adjusting her oversized sunglasses. "I can't believe it's season seven already."

"I know," Lauren said. "I remember watching season one in high school."

"Now I feel like your grandmother, thanks," Paula said. Lauren smiled but didn't apologize. She wasn't one for platitudes. Paula didn't mind. She really believed Lauren wanted the best for her. And even though the fact that she worked for Paula Abdul never ruffled her feathers, when Paula had snuck a peek at Lauren's ipod, she'd found a few of her own hits on the play list.

When they were about halfway there, the radio station announced a flashback set list topped off by one of her songs. The first few notes of Straight Up came from the speakers. From the corner of her eye, Paula saw Lauren stiffen. In the last several months, Lauren had driven Paula all over southern California and never had one of Paula's songs come on the radio. Paula wondered what she would do.

"Well," Lauren said finally. "This is ironic."

"I'm a flashback," Paula said, shrugging.

"I don't think..."

"I haven't had a hit in over ten years," Paula interrupted. "I'm aware of this."

"You've been very successful on American Idol," Lauren said dutifully. "I can change the station."

"No," Paula said, leaning her head back against the seat dramatically. "Let me relive my glory days." She started to sing along with the second chorus. Lauren started to laugh.

"Surreal. Paula Abdul in stereo."

At the hotel, Paula went to her room to get ready for the meeting while Lauren went off to pick up her outfits from the designer for shooting the next morning. The last meeting before shooting started was always dull and she wasn't looking forward to it in the least. After six successful seasons, they had really gotten things down to a science. Making everyone sit through a two-hour rundown was just mean, in her opinion.

Still, when the limo arrived to pick her up, she went off to the site. They had made the mistake of staying at the same hotel they filmed at in the first season. Never again would they stick around to be mobbed. The shooting hotel was already swarming with Idol employees reading the location for 10,000 people to arrive. Some where already there in sleeping bags and chairs, wanting to be first in line. She waved as she got out of the limo and made her way toward the meeting room.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, dipping her head a little as she took her seat. "Still beat Simon, though."

"His flight is delayed," Randy said. "Won't be here until tonight."

Paula felt a little pang of unexpected disappointment. She saw Randy occasionally during hiatus but Simon went back to England and as crazy as he made her sometimes, she did miss him.

Paula sat through the meeting, her attention drifting in and out. No one said anything new. Lauren had shown her the travel itinerary for auditions a month ago and tickets were already booked. It was exhausting, the traveling auditions show but in some ways, it was her favorite part. At least it made a few months interesting.

"Want to go to dinner?" Randy asked her, bringing her focus back to the room.

"Sure," she said, with a smile.

"Good," he said. "I know a place."

Paula called Lauren to let her know of the change of scheduling and soon she was sitting across from Randy in an upscale Mexican restaurant. She ignored the few onlookers. The restaurant had been very accommodating in giving them privacy so it wasn't too bad.

"I can't believe Simon missed the meeting," Paula said, feeling a little bitter that she'd had to sit through it. She played with the straw in her ice water and sighed. "That's so like him."

"I'm not saying he's Nostradamus but, even Simon can't be blamed for flight delays," Randy laughed.

"I guess," she said. "I just never know what to expect from him. Well, besides rudeness, tardiness, and a boring wardrobe."

"Uh," said Randy. "Are you okay? You usually don't start hating Simon until he arrives in the country."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I just have a feeling that he's going to get under my skin more than ever this season."

"Enough about Cowell," Randy said, leaning in to change the subject. "Let's talk about your comeback."

Now this was a subject Paula could get behind and Simon wasn't brought up for the rest of the evening.

oooo

Paula was watching Randy's latest round of press as she was getting ready for bed. Lauren had left her for the night, reminding her that she was only a phone call away should Paula need anything and to get some sleep so she looked her best on camera in the morning. On the television, the interviewer asked Randy about Paula and Simon.

"Do you think the tension between those two will be better or worse than last season?" On screen, Randy rolled his eyes. He hated answering questions about Paula and Simon and she couldn't exactly blame him. Simon had said something about him not wanting to be the third wheel to their 'love affair' but Paula would much rather be happily married with three kids like Randy than duking it out with Simon all the time.

"I don't know man, they're good friends so we'll see," Randy said evasively. "I guess it just depends on our first meeting. It sort of sets the tone for the whole season."

Paula hadn't thought of it that way, but Randy was sort of right. If Simon stepped onto American soil in a foul mood, they were all doomed. However, if he came ready to woo and impress, the season rolled along without a hitch. She sighed and shut the TV off – yet another aspect of her career that hinged on Simon.

After midnight she still couldn't sleep and it was beginning to frustrate her. The last thing she needed was to appear tired or in any way out of it on camera tomorrow. She reached for her cell phone to call Lauren but then thought better of it. Lauren would only nag her about sleep and make her feel worse. Maybe Randy was still awake and would be willing to part with some demos. She slipped on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and snuck out of her room hoping no one would see her without make up or designer clothes on as she made her way down the hall. She knocked on Randy's door knowing he never went to sleep before 1:00 or 2:00am when he was away from his family. The door opened and she saw not Randy but Simon.

"What?" she asked, wondering if she'd gotten the wrong room.

"Come here," he said, smiling and putting his arms around her waist. He pulled her into the room and kicked the door closed. Suddenly she found herself enveloped in Simon's arms, his hug tight and seemingly sincere. "I thought you were asleep or I would have stopped by," he said into the top of her head.

"I thought your flight was messed up," she said, once he let go.

"Just got in," he said, looking at her. "Dear God, is that you without make-up?"

Paula's hands flew to her face. Simon rarely saw the unglamorous version of Paula.

"Shut up," she said.

"What's up baby?" Randy asked, from the couch across the room.

"Couldn't sleep," she said. "Came for the demos. Didn't know you had company."

Simon draped his arm across her shoulder and pulled her back against him.

"I'm knackered," he announced. "I have no bloody idea where I am or what time it is. I'm going to bed. Walk me to my room Ms. Abdul?"

"Um," she said. Simon was not usually this... genial. Even when they were on the same side of the fence, which was increasingly rare these days.

"I'll have the songs for you in the morning," Randy promised. "Goodnight guys."

Simon grabbed her hand and they made their way down the deserted hotel hallway toward, presumably, his suite.

"You okay?" Paula asked. They'd not left on the friendliest of terms – there had been talks, she knew, of replacing her and that had hurt. But apparently time and space really did heal all.

"Yep," he said. They walked past her room and she glanced at the door longingly. She should have never left her bed. He stuck the card into the slot and opened the door. His bags were at the foot of the bed, still untouched. He pointed to a chair and she sat carefully, watching him turn on lights and orient himself with the room. "So," he said, sitting on the mattress facing her. "Let's hear about your summer."

"Now?" she asked.

"I may be tired, but I'm not going to sleep any time soon," he promised. Jet-lag always made Simon either loopy or cranky. Easy to tell which tonight.

"I got a new assistant," she said, shrugging.

"Another one? How big is your entourage now?" he asked.

"I fired them. You didn't read about my crazy antics in the tabloids? How I blamed my help for all my problems and unfairly let them all go?" she asked.

"Nope," he said.

"Well I did. I just have one new girl now," she said, feeling satisfied.

"Is she pretty?" he asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yes," Paula said, giving him a dirty look. "Too good for you."

"Doubtful."

"How is Terri these days?" she asked. Paula almost never asked after Simon's statuesque girlfriend. There was an unspoken agreement to leave significant others out of their conversations, but sometimes he needed a reminder to behave.

"Fine," Simon snapped. "She's..." He shook his head as if to say never mind.

"What?" Paula prodded. She didn't really care for Terri but she did have a soft spot for Simon and if he wanted to open up, she wanted to listen.

"She was going to come and then changed her mind at the last second," he said. "It was just... odd."

"Well she show up later, I'm sure," Paula said.

"I don't think so," said Simon. "I really think she's going to skip the entire season."

"Are you two okay?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

"The same as ever," Simon said. Paula knew that wasn't always the best thing.


	2. In which things begin to change

"I feel like I ought to wash out my ears after that," Simon said, tossing down his pen. "Can I be honest with you?"

The young girl standing on the mark before them opened her mouth but didn't manage to get any words out.

"Simon," Paula said softly, warningly.

"No, I'm serious! Someone needs to tell you to give up. To quit. That sometimes dreams don't work out and not to waste your time." With that, he stood up and walked away from the table and out of the view of the cameras. The contestant didn't bother to wait for the judge's responses – she left the audition room.

"Let's take a break," Randy said with a sigh. Simon disappeared through the balcony door, probably for a cigarette. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Paula said. "Maybe I should go after him."

"If you think it would help. Man, this day is so close to being over. Why can't we just finish?" Randy rarely got as crabby as Paula or Simon. Sighing, Paula stood up and followed Simon outside. He was on the phone when she pushed open the door and was about to leave again when he held out one arm in an invitation. She walked up to him and he pulled her close. When she put her head against his chest, she could feel the vibrations of his voice go through her. It could have been comforting if his tone weren't so hostile.

"Why do we even need to talk about this now?" Simon said. "Because we talked about this, Terri, and agreed that it was a waste of time and money."

Paula tensed slightly when she realized whom Simon was talking to but he rubbed his hand up and down her back so she relaxed.

"Because it's my house, damnit!" Simon said and Paula tensed again. "Look, I'm going to have to call you later. Much later." Simon pressed end angrily and shoved the phone into his pocket before wrapped his other arm around Paula. She hugged him back.

"You all right?" she asked.

"We're fighting over redecorating a room neither of us even goes into," Simon said with a shaky laugh. He dropped his chin onto the top of her head.

"Oh Simon," she said.

"I think maybe it's time to call it quits," he said. She could tell by his voice that it was probably the first time he'd said as much out loud.

"Well, I'm the queen of break-ups so just know I'm here for you," she reminded him. Randy came and knocked on the glass door, pointing at his watch. "Come on," she said.

When all three were seated behind the glass table once more, they sent another contestant through. She was pretty, young, and sang like an angel. With three unanimous yeses, she left the audition room screaming.

"Every I'm about to give up on this gig, we get someone like that," Randy said, leaning back.

"Three more," Simon said. "Next."

They shared a limo back to the hotel. Randy rode backwards because he knew it made Paula feel nauseous. Paula sat next to Simon who stared out the window. Paula smoothed out invisible wrinkles on her dress while the silence wore on.

"You all right?" Randy asked, finally.

"Fine," Simon said. He turned to look at Randy and sighed. "Thanks." He wasn't mad at Randy, after all. Paula patted his arm reassuringly. "I just want to order room service and not listen to anyone sing."

"I hear that," Randy said. "Amen."

"Maybe watch a movie," Paula said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," Simon agreed. "Eat lots of cheese."

"Let's not cross any lines," Paula teased.

In the lobby, Randy excused himself to check his messages at the front desk, so Paula and Simon took the elevator up to the top floor where their suites were.

"Room service isn't any fun alone," said Paula, an offering.

"I used to pray for the time when we all got to go back to our own rooms," Simon said, bumping into her with his shoulder.

"I guess that's a no," she said, crossing her arms.

"But now, I look forward to American Idol starting," he finished. "To seeing you."

"I guess you like me despite your best intentions," Paula said.

"I guess I do," he said. The doors opened and she led them to her room. In the suite was her bedroom and a small living room set, but there was also a full dining room table.

"I'm going to go change," Paula said, rooting around in the closet for more comfortable clothes. "Why don't you order?"

"What would you like?" he asked.

"I don't know. A salad I guess," she said, and disappeared into the bathroom. She took off her dress – it had been a little too short for sitting behind that glass table all day but even Lauren had insisted her legs were one of the her best features and that she should show them off as long as she had them. It felt good to pull on a soft pair of black pants. They were meant for dance, for easy movement but were also comfortable. She pulled on a light, white t-shirt and ran a brush through her hair.

Outside the bathroom, Simon heard a knock on the door just as he hung up the phone.

"That's service," he muttered, looking through the peephole. It wasn't room service, but a young woman. His first instinct was that some crazy Idol fan had figured out Paula's room number and snuck up, but when that happened, there were usually more than one. Sighing, hoping he was right, he opened the door.

"Mr. Cowell!" she exclaimed.

"May I help you?" he asked, crossing his arms in what he knew to be a daunting manner.

"I'm Lauren Brenninger, Paula's assistant," she said. He gave her the one over. Jeans and a sweatshirt, her red hair swept into a messy ponytail, black-rimmed glasses and a shoulder bag that should have been upsetting her balance – yep, she seemed like an authentic personal assistant. She shuffled the papers and phone in her arms to extend a hand. He shook it and stepped aside to let her in just as Paula came out of the bathroom.

"Hi," she said. "I see you've met Simon."

"Only just," Lauren said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but I wanted to do our final rundown for tomorrow before you went to sleep."

"Now is a good time," Paula said waving her over to the table so she could spread out her papers.

"Okay," Lauren said. "You're wearing the Anna Sui tomorrow, correct?"

"I guess. I was thinking maybe, of wearing the Badgley Mischka," Paula debated.

"And I've already told you it would be a crime to sit down all day in that dress," Lauren said.

"She's feisty," Simon said.

"Or I could just wear the same Armani sweater every day," Paula said thoughtfully.

"Also an option," Lauren said with a soft smile.

"I'll wear the Anna Sui," Paula said. "Limo will be here at 7:30 and then we'll listen to terrible auditions all day."

"Hopefully not," Simon muttered.

"Then it's home for two days, then off to Dallas?"

"Yep," Lauren said, gathering up the schedule. "I put a copy of the next several days in your briefcase so you can check on anything any time. Your jewelry manufacturer called and wants to set up an appointment to discuss your new collection. I told him between Dallas and Omaha would be best."

"Probably," Paula murmured.

"I'll be here at six with Daniel," Lauren said. Daniel had sent one of his assistants to make her up the previous morning but she was relieved to hear her own hairdresser would indeed be there and follow her for the audition leg.

"Okay," Paula said.

"And remember," Lauren glanced at Simon. "Sticking to your 11:00pm bedtime is really best for everyone."

"All right, grandma, that's enough of you," Simon said. "Goodnight." Paula nodded, rolling her eyes, and Lauren let herself out.

"Bedtime?" Simon asked in a teasing voice.

"She's kind of strict," Paula admitted.

"She works for you, you know," Simon reminded her.

"I needed someone with a strong hand," Paula shrugged. "Why don't you find something on TV?"

Paula cleaned up the table just as the room service arrived. The hotel staff member set the table and put the food out and then disappeared without saying a word. She hated when the hotel staff squealed upon seeing her and if she hated that, she was sure Simon despised it even more. Simon gave up on the TV as they sat down to eat. She stabbed at her salad and he ate his pasta in relative silence. It wasn't uncomfortable; they were both tired. Simon made a little small talk about the auditions and soon they were finished. Paula tried her hand at finding something to watch while Simon put the dirty dishes on the cart and put it in the hallway to be picked up. The TV faced the bed and not the furniture.

"Do you mind?" Simon asked, deciding it would be better to ask before just jumping in.

"Of course not," she said. "Won't be the first time. At least there isn't any popcorn around." Simon gave her a sheepish look and they clambered up onto the king sized bed and propped themselves up on some pillows.

"I always knew I'd get you in bed one day," he joked. She slapped his arm but was distracted by an old movie that came on to the screen.

"Bringing Up Baby!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen this in forever."

"I don't care what we watch," he said. "This is fine."

But by three-quarters of the way through the film, they had both drifted off. Simon rolled over and his elbow came in contact with the remote. Suddenly, Cary Grant disappeared and the sound of a VJ woke him up.

"We've reached number 24 in our hottest video countdown," the man said. Simon sat up trying to figure out exactly where he was. He saw Paula next to him, still asleep and remembered the movie and dinner. It was nearly midnight – he needed to go back to his room. "This next artist was known more for her hits in the 80s but this early 90s video brought her "Straight Up" to a new level of sex symbol. Here at number 24, with Crazy Cool, is Paula Abdul."

Simon turned back to the screen at the sound of her name. What were the odds that her video would come on now? He saw the video start and didn't immediately recognize it. Had he seen this one? It almost didn't look like Paula. She had her hair short and angled, something that suited her.

And then she started dancing. And dear Lord, was she dancing. What was that stick she was dancing with? And was that even a shirt? His eyes were glued to the screen. Previously, when he thought of his co-judges music career, he thought of big hair and black see-through shirts, not this level of – oh heaven, she was pole dancing.

"Good God," he murmured, sitting up to get a better view.

"Hmm?" Paula stirred beside him.

"Those are some deliciously tiny shorts, love," he said, with a smirk. His eyes didn't leave the screen.

"What?" Paula sat up. "Why is this on?"

"You're number 24, apparently." he said. "Don't talk."

"Simon..." she said, reaching over to turn on a lamp. His voice stopped her.

"Is that... is that champagne?" he said softly. On the screen, she watched herself on the mechanical bull dumping liquid over her already soaked white shirt.

"Actually it was soda water. Alcohol is so hard to get out," she said, smiling. "That bull was hell on my back."

"Paula this is..."

"Kind of trashy?" she offered.

"I was going to say incredibly hot," he corrected. "Why have I never seen this?"

"This was the last video I made before I had to stop dancing for a while," she said. "This song didn't do as well as we'd hoped."

"The song is by far the least important part of what I'm watching now," he said. Finally the song ended and the VJ reappeared on the screen. He tugged at his collar as if the temperature has risen.

"Paula Abdul at number 24. I'm glad to know her hotness stands the test of time."

Suddenly the screen went blank. Simon looked at Paula who held the remote in her hand. She was smirking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You think I'm hot," she said, sounding satisfied.

"Well," he said.

"You can answer after you pick your jaw off the ground and mop up that drool, mister," she teased.

"I never said you weren't hot, poodle," he answered. "I just didn't know you were that... I mean, that was... you have to excuse my language but the fucking sexiest thing I've seen in a long time."

"Simon!"

"I mean, I would pay good money to see that dance live and in person," he said.

"Sorry, I left my pimp cane, stripper pole, and mechanical bull at home," she said. "Another time."

"Promise?" he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, this movie night is over. I'll see you tomorrow," she said pushing at him until he got off the bed. He slipped on his shoes and they went to the door. "Goodnight Simon."

"Just so you know," he said, his hand on the doorknob, "I'm starting the rumors of our tumultuous affair early this year, after that little eye opener."

"Get out," she said, giving him a shove through the open door. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Sweet dreams," he said. "I know I'll have some."

She shut the door.

"Pig," she said with a smile.


	3. In which things get a little sweaty

Leaving San Diego was kind of a relief. Being so close to home was hard. California auditions were never the same. It was all the people from L.A. who were professional musicians, singers, and actors just trying to make it big. She liked going to other cities, cities that actually required her to board an airplane. Sometimes she was so sick of Los Angeles. She envied Simon getting to go back to England.

Simon – that had been an odd day. He'd admitted that he was thinking of breaking up with Terri, someone he'd been with for over five years, and later that same night was drooling over one of her videos. They always flirted, that wasn't new, but he usually only really laid it on thick when there were cameras or media around. Why do it when it was just the two of them?

"You okay?" Lauren asked. They were driving back to Sherman Oaks and Paula knew she was being quiet.

"Tired," she said with a smile. "You did good, though, on your first American Idol related thing. I know it can be crazy."

"Thank you," said Lauren.

"Oh," Paula said. "Randy gave me some demos. For the new album, you know. Let's listen."

"Yes," Lauren said. "You've been talking about recording again, but is it really going to happen?"

"If we find the right song, I'll definitely record something for Randy's project. As for me... I've been waiting for the right time. Maybe by next summer," she said. "I miss that. The dancing and the singing and being know for something other than reality television."

"Well, I'd buy it," Lauren said.

"I'm your boss. Of course you'd buy it," Paula said, finding the CD in her purse. There was a sticky note from Randy. _I think track 3 is yours, baby girl_. Paula put in the CD and skipped to track three.

_All I wanna do is stay right here on the floor, get lost in the night and dance like there's no tomorrow._

oooo

Dallas was hot. The temperature was well over a hundred and the walk from the limo to the audition room made her cranky.

"This is awful," Randy said, sitting next to her. It was cooler in the judge's room but still uncomfortable. Hopefully with in the hour, the A/C would catch up to the day, but until then, the back of Paula's legs were sticking to her chair. Also, Simon was late. He hadn't been in the limo with them and he wasn't there now.

"I don't want to be behind all day because Cowell can't get his act together," Paula said to no one in particular. She wasn't in the mood to play games... she was in the mood to pick fights. No one stopped her though. Her bad mood was good television and they all knew it. Randy leaned in close to her and spoke softly into her ear so no one else could hear.

"Go easy on him today," Randy said.

"What? Why?" she snapped. Randy ran his finger across his throat, miming death. He mouthed "Terri," just as Simon walked in. Paula was shocked. Had he really, finally broken up with Terri? He'd mentioned it in San Diego but Paula hadn't heard anything else about it. If it were true, it'd probably be in the tabloids by the weekend. Paula felt a little thrill of something go up her spine, but she didn't know what it was or why.

"Sorry everyone," Simon murmured before sitting heavily in his seat. The whole crew was quiet – Simon almost never sincerely apologized. Paula touched his forearm briefly, her bad mood overcome by her empathy for Simon. She decided to try something light.

"Hey Cuddlebug," she said, sweetly. He looked at her and couldn't help but smile a little.

"Hey Poodle," he answered and pulled the arm of her chair so it was flush with his. "All right, let's go," he called.

Dallas got underway and by the lunch break they were all feeling tired and bored.

"If I hear one more Kelly Clarkson song, ya'll," Randy said and made a fist with his hand.

"Seriously," said Paula, letting her head fall to the table. She felt Simon's warm hand on her back. He'd been uncharacteristically quiet during auditions, even during the terrible ones. Paula had actually told someone that his audition had been awful. Someone had to do it, if Simon wouldn't. She could already hear Ryan's vapid voice over in her head. "Paula Abdul gets catty in Dallas." Or something.

Dallas was hot and arid. Her skin felt dry and Simon's warm hand on the bare skin of her back was nice. Randy stood and headed for craft services.

"Let's eat," Simon said. Paula allowed him to pull her up out of the chair and he left his fingers linked with hers on the way out of the audition room. There was a set of connecting doors to a large, open room that held craft services, a few tables and chairs, and the bulk of the filming equipment and their cases. Paula liked the set-up for auditions. Since the judges got ready before they arrived, they didn't segregate themselves in their dressing rooms for their breaks. Instead, the on-screen and off-screen people all mingled together. Paula, Simon, and Randy all stood in line to get their lunches and no one complained about the wait. A lot of the off-screen staff had been there for years already, so there were only a few unfamiliar faces, most of them young interns. Paula tried to smile and greet everyone, especially those she didn't recognize, but learning new names was somewhat out of the question. She was only human.

"What are you eating, love?" Simon said, nudging her forward, clearly trying to wake her from her daydream.

"Hmm?" she asked, picking up a plate. "Oh, sorry."

"One of those days, man," said Randy. "Everyone has fog in their eyes." Paula threw him a smile over her shoulder before filling her plate with mostly vegetables and some fruit. It was what Simon called rabbit food, but it was also what kept her so small. She grabbed a bottle of water and sat at one of the unoccupied tables near a window. There was a layer of smog that hung over Dallas as the city baked in the sunshine. Not unlike L.A. in that way.

Simon sat down next to her, his lunch considerably more carnivorous than hers.

"Someday your heart is going to explode from eating all that trash," she said, looking at his cheeseburger with a wrinkled nose.

"Maybe even today if I'm lucky," he responded.

"Oh," she said. "You don't mean that."

"Let's see, I've just broken up with my girlfriend over my mobile, it's hotter than hell, and I have another several hours of listening to terrible kids singing terrible songs. I'd say this day is pretty bad," he said.

"I'm sorry about..." Paula started.

"Don't be," Simon interrupted. "You of all people shouldn't be."

She was about to ask what he meant by that, exactly, when Lauren appeared with her phone glued to her ear as it usually was. Paula waved her over. Even Lauren was in shorts, exposing her long, pale legs. Paula pointed to the seat on the other side of her while Lauren ended her call.

"Thanks," she said, sitting.

"Hungry?" Paula asked. Lauren shook her head.

"I ate. I just wanted to check in," she said. "How are you Mr. Cowell?" Paula shook her head as if to say, don't bother but Simon looked up from his lunch briefly.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered.

"We're having a rough day," Paula said.

"Ah," Lauren said uncomfortably. "Well can I get you anything to cheer you up?"

"Like what?" Simon asked.

"I don't know. A chocolate biscuit? A Toblerone bar? I think I get streaming BBC news on my phone," Lauren said, offering up the cell phone for Simon's consumption. Paula tried not to laugh. Lauren was walking a dangerous line – sarcasm with Simon worked sometimes, but sometimes Simon snapped and when he did, he bit hard.

"If you really want to help me, smartass, you'll find me a decent cup of tea in this godforsaken city," Simon said with a smirk.

"Simon!" Paula exclaimed. "Lauren, you don't have to do anything for him."

"I don't mind," Lauren said. "Working for Paula is working for Paula's friends. I'll be back in a jiffy." They both watched her disappear, weaving her way through the throngs of people in yellow Idol staff shirts.

"Please be nice to her," Paula begged, watching her go. "My entire life is stored in her brain."

"Why isn't it stored in yours?" Simon asked.

"You have an assistant too," she reminded him.

"In London," he said. "I don't drag him all over the world with me."

"No, you drag me instead," she said.

"You're just a perk," Simon informed her, standing with his now empty plate. Paula watched him walk away, tossing his paper plate in the garbage before disappearing back into the audition room. On the surface, his comment seemed nice but she didn't trust him. Simon Cowell had spent six years trying to figure out the best way to get under her skin and she was almost certain that being nice was just a new one.

oooo

It was too hot to sleep. Paula had turned off the air-conditioning over an hour ago because she couldn't sleep with the constant whir of a fan. The unit also had two settings. Off and frigid. She figured it couldn't be that hot in the middle of the night, but now sweat was pooling in her lower back as she tried to sleep. She kicked off the sheet that covered her and turned over, flailing her limbs in frustration.

Was there anything good about Texas?

Well, the one good thing about Texas had been Lauren producing a full English tea service in sterling silver for Simon in between auditions in less than thirty minutes.

"You are magic," Simon said, taking Lauren's hand in his own. His smile was real. "I'll pay you twice what she does to work for me."

"Get away!" Paula said, slapping at their joined hands. "She's mine, Cowell."

"Please, please," Lauren said, taking a bow. "There's plenty of me to go around." Nigel had even kept the film rolling on this and Paula sort of hoped Lauren made it on to the show. Lauren winning over Simon was a feat – that girl needed a raise. And after a proper cup of tea, Simon's mood had improved considerably. Paula had wanted to ask about Terri but as soon as the day was called a wrap, he'd disappeared.

Paula rolled over until she found a cool space on the sheets. She'd had no caffeine for days, she'd been sleeping fine before, and the heat had never really kept her awake like this before. Maybe it was time to admit defeat and get up for a while. The clock told her in was just before 2:00am. She just needed to tire herself out to get a few more hours of sleep.

She put on a pair of dance pants and her sports bra. Finding a plain t-shirt was more of a challenge – why did Lauren insist on bothering to fold her clothes? She just messed everything up riffling through them anyway – but she finally located a dark blue one. She pulled it on, as well as some shoes, and headed for the hotel gym. She would run until her legs gave out and then she would sleep like a baby.

The gym was deserted when she arrived which was perfect. As far as her public was concerned, she was thin because of good genes and dancing. No one needed to see sweaty, treadmill Paula. She turned on the treadmill to a moderately high setting and started to run. A few years ago, her feet pounding on the machine would have shot pain up through her teeth so fierce that her vision would start to swim but now it was a good pain, a pain that meant health and strength. She was getting her body back in control.

She'd been running for twenty minutes when she heard the door open. She wasn't remotely tired or ready to stop, but she didn't really want to run with a stranger. She moved to stop the machine when she saw that it was Simon who walked in.

"Are you stalking me?" he asked, draping his towel around his neck so he could put his hands on his hips.

"I... was here... first," she said, breathing heavily but not breaking her stride.

"I," he scratched the back of his head, always a tell of honesty for Simon. "I couldn't sleep."

"Me either," she said. "Do you... want to... talk... about it?"

"Not particularly," he said. She made a half-hearted hand motion to the treadmill to her right.

"Then shut up... and run," she said. He rolled his eyes and climbed onto the treadmill. He glanced at her settings so he could match them and soon he was running in time with her, step for step. They were quiet for a long time; only the sounds of their labored breathing, the churn of the belts rotating, and their feet making contact filled the room. Finally, Paula knew she had to stop or she would lose her footing and hurt herself. Her lungs were burning anyway. She jumped to the side and stopped the belt. For a moment, she felt off kilter and let herself get used to a still world after so long in motion. As soon as the belt was still, she sat down on it. Her knees felt like jelly. She used to get the same feeling after playing a concert – that much singing, dancing, and running had worn her out for months. It had nearly broken her back; had nearly destroyed her career.

Simon turned off his machine too and looked down at her. She knew she looked a mess. The t-shirt was dark with sweat and sticking to her. Her hair had started to come loose from the ponytail and was falling in her face, sticking to her forehead and neck. She should have brought some water. As if reading her mind, Simon offered her his bottle. She took a swig gratefully and handed it back.

"Are you tired yet?" he asked.

"Wide awake and sore as hell," she said.

"I think there's a sauna," he said, glancing at the map of the gym on the wall behind him. "Yep."

"That's what I need," she said. "To get sweaty."

"The heat will tire you out," he promised.

"Unlike cool, refreshing Dallas in August," she snapped.

"Fine," he said. "Never mind."

"No, I'll go," she said, getting up. "But cut me some slack, it's 2:45 in the morning. I'm allowed to be cranky."

"You're never allowed to be cranky. You're America's sweetheart," he said, holding open the door to the sauna room for her. "I however, get to be cranky all the time and it's fabulous."

Paula stopped when she saw the sauna. For such a large hotel, the sauna was small, as if installed as an afterthought. It's big enough for the two of them, but there won't be a lot of room to spare. She faltered for a moment, thinking that maybe it was just too intimate a situation for this particular co-judge at this particular time of night.

"Don't back out on me now, love," Simon said, seeing the hesitation written clearly on her face. He took off his t-shirt and kicked off his shoes. He had running shorts on and fussed with the dial until the sauna started to heat. Paula crossed her arms.

"I didn't really bring anything to wear," she said. She had her sports bra on, though it would be a little threadbare when soaked with sweat. She had underwear on too, luckily not the lacy thong she tended to wear but cotton briefs, cut like little boy shorts meant for comfort while running until she dropped.

"You going commando under there?" he asked.

"No!" she said, as if the concept was foreign to her – which it was not.

"I've seen you in a bikini," he said. "Don't be shy now."

"I'm not shy," she said. Of course, with that statement said, removing her clothes was clearly the next step. She pulled the t-shirt over her head and shimmied out of her pants. Simon grinned and tossed her a towel.

If she thought she was hot before, stepping into the sauna was like stepping into a volcano. She sat on her towel with her legs crossed; her head back against the wall. Simon sat on the far wall, not that it was all that far, his head hung. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke first.

"Why are we doing this? I'm going to expire."

"I've been thinking about that very thing," Paula said, shaking a finger at him. Even her fingers were sweating. She was grossing herself out a little. Hopefully she was at least sweating out toxins.

"And?" he prompted.

"And I think we're in here because you need to talk about Terri," she said. "I think this is a... a..." She snapped her fingers. "What's the word?"

"A ploy?" he asked. "You think I'm scheming to trap myself in here with you to talk about my ex?"

"I think that, yes," she said. "You were together a long time."

"I know," he said.

"And even if breaking up was the right thing to do, it doesn't mean that the end doesn't hurt," Paula said.

"I know!" he said.

"So maybe you should talk about it," she said. "With me."

"Rehearsing for Paula Abdul the talk show?" he asked.

"Stop making jokes, Simon. Stop deflecting," she ordered. "What went wrong?"

"I didn't love her," he said. "Well, that isn't fair. I did love her. I just didn't love her enough."

"See?" she said, opening her eyes to look at him. "Don't you feel better?"

"No," he said. "Even professional bachelors wonder if they have 'the one' somewhere out there."

Paula extended her sweaty leg to nudge her toes against his.

"You'll find her," Paula said. "She's probably been right under your nose the whole time."

"Oh heaven help me if the one is an American," he scoffed. Paula gave him a stern look and pulled her foot back to her own side.

When they got back to their respective rooms, each slept like a baby for the rest of the night.


	4. In which they want what they can't have

Lauren waited in the lobby of the jewelry company. Paula was due to be out of her design meeting any minute and then they would go back to the house to get ready for Omaha. Tomorrow was a travel day – a day Lauren hated just as much as Paula. Lauren would be happy when they stayed in one place for a while. She missed her friends and family. She missed going to church every Sunday and sleeping in her own bed.

Paula's phone began to ring. She'd given it to Lauren for the duration of the meeting and she saw Simon Cowell's face pop up on the screen. The name above his grinning mug read "Cuddlebug."

"Barf," Lauren said to herself before answering. "Miss Abdul's phone!"

"Lauren!" Simon said, his voice loud enough that it drew the receptionist's glare. Lauren turned away from her.

"Hi Mr. Cowell," she said dutifully.

"How is my favorite assistant today?" he asked.

"Dandy," she said. "Paula isn't here right now but I'd be happy to..."

"I called to talk to you, love," he interrupted.

"Then why did you call her phone?" she asked, confused. "Because you knew she's in a meeting!"

"Anyway," said Simon. "I heard that Paula is on the early flight to Nebraska tomorrow. Be a dear and move her to my flight."

"Uh, she and Mr. Jackson were planning on using the flight time for a business meeting," Lauren said. "I also know you already asked her yourself and she said no."

"Are you her assistant or her guard dog?" Simon asked. "Look, my lovely coppertop of a walking date book, I hate flying alone. Do Simon a favor?"

"But you aren't alone. I believe Mr. Seacrest is on your flight," Lauren said.

"If you could, in the future, be slightly less informed...." he muttered. "I will give you anything, Brenninger, just do this."

Lauren sighed.

"And in case you didn't hear that, it was me sighing loudly," she said into the phone. "Give me an hour, I'll see what I can do."

"Kisses!" Simon said, his voice syrupy with sarcasm. "Bye."

Where had her life gone terribly wrong that she was forced to have conversations with this man?

"Dear Jesus," Lauren said to the ceiling. "Is it me? Is Simon Cowell a plague on my soul?"

"Should've been a Jew," Paula said. Lauren jumped, not realizing that Paula had come out of her meeting. "Did he call about the flight again?"

"Yes," Lauren said, not small hint of bitterness in her voice. "I was stupid and answered your phone." She placed the phone in Paula's well-manicured hand. Most of the time, maintaining Paula was just her job. Sometimes, like now, she was struck with how glamorous Paula really was. She was beautiful, distractingly so, and Lauren had to shake herself out of it before they could continue.

"Did you tell him to mind his own business?" she asked, as they headed for the car.

"Sort of?" Lauren said. Paula glanced at her.

"Does that mean no?" Paula asked, handing Lauren her jewelry portfolio so she could unlock the Mercedes.

"I said we'll see," Lauren said, putting everything in the tiny trunk. It was such an impractical car but Paula loved it. Lauren drove a Prius, of course. When she'd mentioned it to Paula, she'd responded, "Who am I? Cameron Diaz?" And it had been the end of the car discussion. "I was thinking of changing his flight to yours instead."

"Si hates early flights," Paula said, bringing the engine to life. Lauren buckled her seat belt hastily while Paula tore out of the parking lot.

"Well I hate him calling me every two hours," Lauren said. "Also, maybe it would be good for you to postpone your business meeting with Randy until you get to Omaha."

"Why?" Paula asked.

"Well, I won't be there to take notes for one," Lauren said. Paula looked at her blankly.

"You're not coming to Omaha?" Paula asked.

"I'm coming on the red-eye, remember? It's my brother's birthday? He's turning 30." Lauren swallowed. "If you want, I could try to cancel...."

"No," Paula said. "I remember." She chewed at her lip. "Well if you aren't going to be there I guess it wouldn't be bad to change me to Simon's flight."

"Are you sure?" Lauren asked. "Because let me just point out that it would be giving him what he wants and you hate that."

"I know," she said. "But he's going through such a hard time right now..." Lauren held up her hand.

"Consider it done," she said. She texted Simon from her own phone this time. She knew he had the number; he'd called her enough, always trying to get Lauren to maneuver Paula without knowing he was behind it.

_Your wish is my command. Enjoy your flight._

oooo

Paula didn't particularly like flying. It was scary and boring all at once. Being trapped in a small space was no one's idea of a good time, and doing it hanging dangerously above the earth didn't help. Ever since that flight so long ago with Emilio, the one that ended with a concussion and landing in a cornfield, she has just hated flying. Ryan was asleep in the row behind them. Beside her, Simon was dozing with his head against the window.

She tapped his shoulder and when he didn't stir, gave him a good shove.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I'm bored," she said.

"Go to sleep like the rest of us," he snapped.

"You harass me and Lauren for days to get me on a flight so you can ignore me? I don't think so, buddy," she said. "Wake your ass up and pay attention to me."

"Good lord," Simon said, sitting up to face her. "I would have let you stay on your own flight if I'd knew I'd be flying next to the queen of PMS." To his benefit, he looked like he regretted saying it as soon as the words exited his mouth. The look on her face must have betrayed only a small portion of the hurt she felt at his words.

"Fuck you," she said and stood up. She took her bag and moved out of their row, plopping into the vacant seat next to Ryan.

"What?" Ryan asked, sitting up, startled. He looked at Paula – her arms crossed, her tight jaw and red cheeks. "Oh."

"Man makes me crazy," she seethed. In front of them, Simon had already snuggled back down into his seat.

"Is it because he likes movies and you like TV? Or because you make the bed and he steals the covers?" Ryan asked with a big, toothy smile.

"First of all, shut up you nerd. Secondly, OPPOSITES DO NOT ATTRACT. I lied, okay?" she said, loudly. A few of the other passengers looked over toward her and she smiled at them nicely. A 'nothing's wrong' smile.

"I wish you two would just have sex and get over it," Ryan said. Paula smacked him in the arm.

"I hate both of you. I should have stayed on my own flight. I wish Lauren were here," she said. Lauren was really good at feeding Paula comebacks for Ryan and Simon. She could be in Omaha already, or at least on the plane with Randy getting something productive done instead of seething.

"Sorry, I'll stop teasing," Ryan promised. "You know Simon he's just pulling your pigtails."

"Scalping me, is more like it," she said. This finally drew Simon's attention and he stood up with a sigh and came to stand in the aisle in front of her. "Go away."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings pet," he said, getting down onto one knee theatrically. "I was wrong."

"Duh," said Paula. "You can't just treat me like your other women, Simon. I'm not your American Jackie. I'm not your friend because it's convenient."

"I don't think that," he said. "I don't!"

"Yeah right," she said. "Just leave me alone."

"Paula, my darling, come back to your seat. Come to Simon," he begged. A flight attendant appeared smiling nervously.

"I'm going to have to remind you that you need to stay in your seat Mr. Cowell," she said.

"Of course," Simon said. "But only if the princess comes with me."

"No," she said.

"Go with him," Ryan said. "Go kiss and make-up. You know he's an ass, who doesn't mean what he says and that you're his favorite. It's a long flight. Don't drag this out." The flight attendant glanced around nervously. The other passengers were watching unabashedly with smiles. It was like an episode of Idol in their own plane.

"You see? You're my favorite girl," Simon said. "I'm sorry."

Paula relented.

"Okay," she said, standing. The passengers clapped a little and Simon threw them a wink. The attendant disappeared when they were all buckled back in their seats. Simon pulled her feet up so they were across his lap and ran his hands over her smooth, tan legs. He tugged so she was cuddled up against him. Why did she allow this contact? This fight and make-up routine they did weekly, sometimes daily? Why did she give into him? His t-shirt was soft against her cheek and he drew little circles on her shins with his fingers.

"There now," he said. "You're my girl."

"Hmph," she said.

"I don't think of you as the American Jackie, love," he said. "Do you think that?"

"Maybe," Paula said.

"I tried with Jackie, but things didn't work there. And we are good friends, but you and I are something special. You know that," he said. He kissed her head and left his nose buried in her hair for a moment. She felt him breathe in. "Only one Paula."

"Okay, okay, you're forgiven," she said with a laugh. "Stop charming me, I can't take it."

"Good," he said.

"Can't we just skip the fighting?" she asked. "For one trip?"

"But then we can't make up!" he exclaimed. "Making up is the best part."

"GET A ROOM," Ryan said from behind them.

"Shut it, Seacrest," Simon snapped.

oooo

Paula saw Simon daily when they were traveling or holding court in auditions, but for the past six years, she never saw him during the in between days. They had just got back last night from Atlanta and Paula had a rare Sunday to herself. Lauren had Sunday's off – she liked to go to church – and Paula had no scheduled commitments. She had plenty of work to do around the house but nothing pressing; nothing that required her to leave or take off her pajamas. She planned to lounge, to play with the puppies, or maybe to lay in the sun by the pool with a trashy novel.

But first, she was going to dance.

The basement was just wooden floors and mirrored walls. Two of the walls had barres installed and there was a state of the art sound system but other than that, it was just space. She was warming up, stretching her legs on the barre, when her cell phone rang down by her foot. She was surprised to see it was Simon. He rarely, if ever, called her on the off days. Curious she answered, turning on the speaker and setting it back down.

"Hello?" she said sweetly.

"Hello," he said. "It's me."

"Who is me? I have so many beaus calling, it's hard to keep track," she teased.

"Naughty girl," he said. "Come see my new house in Malibu. It's finished today."

"I'm busy," she said.

"Doing what?"

"Dancing," she said. "And possibly resting. I haven't decided."

"That isn't busy," he whined. "Come with me, we'll have dinner and there's a private beach. You can dance there."

"Simon, I don't know," she said. "You of all people know how rare a day off is."

"I'm coming to get you," he said, and he hung up. It wasn't that she didn't want to go, but Simon always had such selfish expectations of her. He said jump and he expected her to jump. He could come if he wanted, but she had plans to dance for at least an hour and she was going to do it.

She didn't hear him come in, almost thirty minutes later, but she caught his reflection in the mirror. He was watching her. She'd worked up a pretty good sweat now, but wasn't ready to slow down yet. The music was loud, a heavy beat she could move to. If he wanted a show, well, she could give him that. She went to the music and paused it.

"You're not ready," he said.

"You told me once you wanted to see me live?" she asked. He shook his head, not understanding. She pushed a few buttons and suddenly "Crazy Cool" began to play.

The first dance that Paula had choreographed for this song had been bounced back to her by MTV and then by all of the other networks that aired her music videos. The notes had read: too sexy, too explicit, too raunchy and, her favorite, too out of character. So she'd toned it down. But now, with just Simon she decided to do the real dance that went with the song.

But as she started to move she realized it was less dance and more... well, strip tease. Paula had learned in dancing that less is more and always dressed in layers accordingly. The first thing to go, with a pop of her hips, was her sweater.

Simon had realized what she was doing and searched desperately for a chair. Something to catch him when his knees went wobbly and gave up the fight of holding his weight. Paula was a tease, it was something he liked about her, but this was taking it too far. He leaned up against the wall behind him. The sweater hit the floor. He could see a strip of her stomach; her belly button peeked out and he couldn't stop looking at it.

It wasn't even the loss of the layer that was so tantalizing, but the shocked look on her face afterward, like it was her first time doing something so naughty. If she was innocent, he was a bloody angel. Her hips were moving now and the things she could do with her feet were actually quite impressive. She was a very good dancer.

Now she was in a white tank top that was being stretched to the max by her bust line and a pair of stretchy navy pants. Her thumbs found their way under the waistband and she shimmied out of them.

Simon groaned. Underneath the pants were black, lacy panties and a firm ass that was currently waggling in his direction. She stepped delicately out the pants and kicked him to him. Next came the white tank top, over her head and flung at his. It was slightly damp, and smelled like her perfume and the scent that made her Paula; something unique that couldn't be bottled. He put it to his face to hide the grin. This was the best day ever. Under the tank top had been the matching bra, lace and a few strategic solid patches of material that hid the very good parts. There was nary a tan line on the girl – she was just tan, brown skin and dark lace. As the song ended, she did the same saunter that had ended the video and then she was giggling and shutting the stereo off.

Simon dropped the tank top and grabbed her shoulder. He spun her around and pinned her against the mirror so fast that she squeaked. The glass was cold against her sweaty back and he could already see it fogging behind her head. He pressed his body against hers and leaned into her ear.

"That was mean," he whispered and licked a bead of sweat that had gathered at her jaw off his face. She gasped.

"You just want what you can't have," she said, her voice a little breathless and lower than usual.

"Are you what I can't have, Paula Abdul?" he asked, leaning over and swiping the other side of her jaw with his tongue. She, unconsciously she would later argue, leaned her head over to offer him more access. To Simon, this was an invitation. He pressed his lips against her neck hotly and wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt his teeth nip her skin and he pushed his knee between her thighs. She whimpered a little at the contact.

"Simon," she said. "We should..."

"Yes?"

"Stop," she said, pressing her hands against his chest. "We should stop." Simon stepped back, released her from the wall and she picked up her discarded clothes and fled the basement.

"What just happened?" Simon asked his reflection.


	5. In which there is much angst

Paula locked the bathroom door behind her and dropped the clothes. She couldn't believe what just happened. Sure, knowing Simon was flirting with him, but they had crossed a line back there. Kisses and pokes and hugs for the show were okay, but she had been about to make out with him in her basement! In her underwear! She shouldn't have danced for him. She'd been teasing him, tempting him on purpose.

When he'd pressed his knee up against her core, she thought she was going to die. Her robe was hanging from the back of the bathroom door and she put it on, tying the sash tight. She could hear his footsteps on the stairs and then him knocking on the door.

"Come out," he said. "We need to talk."

"I just need a minute," she said. Her voice sounded shaky, even to her own ears.

"Don't hide from me," he said. "Come out. I'll be good."

She opened the door and he was standing there, looking just as disheveled as she felt. Her neck still burned where his lips had made contact.

"I shouldn't have danced like that," she blurted. "This is my fault."

"We didn't do anything wrong," he said, almost gently.

"Ha," she said. "Everything that we do is wrong. You and I even being in the same room is wrong, half the time."

"We got carried away," he said. "But I still want to show you the house. I still want to take you to dinner. We have reservations at the Ivy. It will be fun and we'll put the whole thing behind us."

"I can't go to dinner with you," she said. "Are you kidding? I'm having trouble even standing up right now." She didn't want to admit to him that he got to her but she couldn't help it.

He grinned. "I got you that turned on, did I?"

She slammed the door, flipping the lock defiantly.

"Paula," he wailed. "I was kidding. You turned me on! You started it! I'm sorry, I can't shut up sometimes."

"We need some space," she said. "I need to take a shower."

"Put on a dress, we'll go to the house and to dinner. Please?" He didn't hear anything. "Please?"

"I don't know," she said, pressing her ear against the door. "I don't know if I can stand you anymore today."

"Please baby?" he said, knowing she would melt at the endearment. Anytime he called her anything sweet – poodle, darling, love – she gave in.

"Go wait downstairs," she said. He smiled and left her to her bathroom.

She stepped under cold spray, hoping it would help to slow the frantic fluttering in her chest. When Simon was with Terri, the flirting didn't mean anything. Paula knew in her heart she would never be the other woman, the cause for so much of someone else's heartache. Now there was no wall between Simon and her self. There was no unspoken agreement not to take things too far. It had taken her years to even admit to herself she was attracted to him! Now she was losing her cool whenever he walked in the room. She would just have to be extra professional when he was around. Starting tomorrow.

She walked out of the bathroom in her robe, toweling off the ends of her hair to find that Simon had not gone downstairs, but was stretched out on his back across her bed. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping. He was just waiting. At the sound of the door opening, he sat up.

"I have to get dressed," she said, warily.

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't mad," he said, trying hard to keep his eyes focused on her face.

"I'm not mad, but I'm upset," she said. "I guess I just want to know why you're doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked. She sat next to him on the bed, several inches between them.

"Wooing me," she said. "Because I'll tell you right now; I don't care how many notches you have on your bedpost, I'm not going to have a fling with you."

"That's fine," he said. "Look Paula, the truth is, you're the best friend I have in the States. Not a fact that I'm proud of, but the truth nonetheless. It also turns out that you're completely irresistible sometimes and occasionally, I lose my head."

"Really?" she asked with a smile. "You think of me as your best friend?"

"I would have killed you already if you weren't," he promised. From Simon, it was almost sweet.

oooo

Simon had driven the convertible over and so Paula secured a white scarf over her head before he pulled out of the driveway.

"You look like a movie star," he said, his elbow hanging out of the car. He drove like the car was a natural extension of his body; one hand draped easily on the steering wheel, moving only to shift gears or tug on a piece of her hair.

"Except I can't really act that well," she said.

"You can perform," he said. "That's better. It's harder to do."

There wasn't much traffic until the congestion on the PCH once they got into town. At a stoplight, Paula heard her name being screamed from a car full of teenage girls next to them.

"We love you Paula!" they shouted. She smiled at them from behind her sunglasses and waved, blowing kisses. The light turned green and Simon sped up, leaving the girls in the dust.

"I love my fans," she said dreamily, leaning back. She was warm and content in the sunshine, her legs hot against the black leather of the seat.

"They didn't yell my name," he said, a little moodily. She giggled and touched his hand where it rested on the stick shift.

"Their love for you is above words," she assured him. He rolled his eyes. Soon they were pulling up his driveway to his gate. He keyed in his code and the gates opened. The house came into view. It was average by L.A. standards but large by Malibu standards. It all seemed kind of familiar, though. Something nagged at the back of her mind. "Wait a minute," she said, peering over her shoulder at the closest visible house. Simon's house was one of three houses on the small strip of private beach. She turned to Simon with a horrified expression.

"What?" he asked.

"You bought a house next door to my ex-husband!" she exclaimed.

"I can't help what real estate became available, pet," he said.

"Yes, but, this is weird," she said, slinking down into her seat, as if he could see her. Emilio had been the first of her spectacular public failures. Simon put his arm over her shoulder.

"I thought you got on with him?" Simon said. "It's been years, after all."

"We're friendly, but I haven't seen him in a while. We don't... talk," she said. "Ugh. I hate facing exes."

"Well now if we see him, you can hang off me. British, handsome, and wildly successful," Simon said. "No need to be embarrassed."

"I'm not embarrassed," she insisted. "Let's go inside."

"Right," he muttered. "Cool as a cucumber."

Inside was beautiful. Most of the west walls were picture windows, displaying the ocean sparkling and blue under a clear sky. The furniture was minimal, that was Simon's style, and mostly white on hardwood floors.

"I love it," she said. "It's perfect." He showed her the state of the art kitchen, and the den with the extravagantly large television flat and mounted to the wall. Upstairs was the master bedroom and a smaller guest room painted a cheery yellow. A few of the other rooms – like the office, were empty, still waiting to be set up. "Oh Simon, I could stay here forever."

"You can, actually," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I made a key for you." He held it up.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"Well, I know you like to get away and I'm in England so often. Why shouldn't someone enjoy the house? I made up the yellow room with you in mind. That's why everything is so girly."

"Simon, that's so sweet," she said, throwing her arms around him. "You always think of me."

"All day every day," he teased, dropping the key into her hand. "Of course, if the neighbors bother you too much I can always take it back." She closed her hand around the key before he could snatch it away.

"I'll manage," she said.

"I hear your ex-father-in-law is ten minutes down the road if you get lonely," he said.

"You're so nice and so mean in the span of 30 seconds. It's exhausting," she said crossing her arms.

"Sorry," he said. "Want to go see the beach?"

"Okay," she said. They went through the back gate down a few steps to where the sand began. The beach in front of the house was deserted, though about a mile down she could see a few people at the water. She took off her sandals and held them as they made their way toward the water.

"Nice, eh?" he said.

"Yep," she replied. He stood back as she reached the water's edge and let it lap over her feet. It was cold – California's oceans were always cold, even on the hottest days, and she didn't let the water get her again. Simon came up behind her once she was out of the water's reach and put his arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Yep. I could get used to this," he said softly. "Pretty beach, pretty house, pretty girl. Guess America isn't half bad."

"You love it here," she teased. "You're going to apply for citizenship and stay forever."

"Not bloody likely," he said, spinning her so she faced him. "Let's go have a drink and then think about making our dinner reservation, yes?"

"Yes," she said. She took his hand and they climbed up to the house. She was contemplating having a second glass of wine while Simon changed when her phone rang. It was Lauren.

"Did you, by chance, go to Malibu today? With Simon?" Lauren asked.

"I'm in Malibu. We're about to leave for dinner from his new house," she said. "How did you know that?"

"There's pictures of you on the beach on the internet. My phone has been ringing off the hook – E, TMZ, all the sites want statements."

"Ugh, I didn't even see any paparazzi," Paula said.

"Well they saw you. He's got his arms around you and it looks... well, what do you want me to say?" Lauren asked.

"No comment?" Paula asked.

"I don't think that's going to work," Lauren said. "If you were filming the show live, maybe, you could say something on air but we're not even at Hollywood yet."

"Just send it to my publicist," Paula said. "Tell him to... I don't know. You know how Simon and I are. We're friends, but we're not dating. That's the bottom line. We aren't together."

She heard him coming down the stairs.

"Got it?" Paula asked.

"Got it," said Lauren. "And be careful wherever you're going to dinner. My guess is their camped out, waiting for you to leave. Do you want me to come over?"

"No," Paula said with a sigh. "We'll be fine. I'll call you later."

"Bye," said Lauren.

Simon stood at the last step, watching her. He looked a little hurt, a little shocked.

"Paparazzi," she explained. "I was just talking to Lauren. Apparently they're outside."

"It's important to be clear to the press," Simon agreed, forcing a smile.

"They got a picture of us on the beach," she said. "Someone had a long lens."

"We can stay in," he offered but she shook her head. "All right then, let's go."

Simon didn't even consider putting the top up, even when he saw the press camped out at his gate. Paula had her sunglasses and scarf, but she didn't like to be in a situation where someone could physically get their hands on her. She leaned into Simon who put his arm around her. As soon as the gate opened, Simon tried to speed through but was stopped by people in front of the car. Lights were flashing and people started yelling questions.

"Where are you going tonight, Simon?"

"Is it true that you're living together, Paula?"

"Kiss for us!"

They remained stoically silent, nudging the car through the crowd until Simon could pull onto the street and into traffic, away from the mob. Paula's heart was racing and she was shaking a little. Simon rubbed her arm.

"Not too bad," he said and she scoffed. "Remember, all press is good press."

"Not for me," she said. "Maybe we should've stayed in."

"Never," he said. "You deserve a nice meal for all you've put up today."

"At least," she said.

oooo

After dinner, Simon took Paula home. In the car with the engine off, they sat for a few minutes in front of her house. Paula was full and tired from her long day, but she was a little sad to see Simon go.

"I'll see you in Miami," he said. They were on different flights on different days. She'd see him, probably, for the first time in the limo on the way to the arena.

"Yep," she said. "Thanks for a crazy day."

"You know I like to keep it interesting," he chuckled. "I'm sorry I..."

"No, it's my fault," she said.

"We're both to blame?" he offered. She smiled. He leaned in, aiming to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head at kissed his mouth instead. He froze, afraid of getting into trouble, another fight, or a slap across the face. But Paula relaxed and pressed into his mouth firmly. She'd been thinking about kissing him, really kissing him, since he'd walked into her dance studio in the early afternoon.

His hand tentatively came up to the back of her neck and anchored her against him.

Kissing Simon was like putting on your favorite sweater or drinking your favorite cocktail. To Paula, it was like watching her favorite movie. It just felt right – like she'd been doing it all her life and like she'd keep doing it until death. And when he nudged his tongue against her lips, she didn't think twice about opening her mouth to let him in. The first swipe of his hot tongue against hers made her feel drunk.

This time, Simon pulled back first, letting his hand slide from her neck to her shoulder. She put her forehead against his and they took a second to catch their breath.

"Okay," she said. "This is how friends say goodbye, right?"

"Yes," he said. "This is how really good friends say goodbye."

"I'm getting out of the car now," she said.

"I need to go home," he said.

"You can't come inside," she said.

"I know."

"Bye," she said, pulling back and opening the door in one quick motion. She didn't want to change her mind.

"See you, Paula," he said. She closed the door and he started the engine, but he didn't drive away until she was safely inside the house. She locked the door and then leaned back against the cool dark wood. She felt like she had a fever, her skin was so warm. She dropped her purse and tucked her chin against her chest. She just needed to breathe for a minute.

"Paula?"

"AHH!" she jumped. Lauren was sitting at the kitchen counter, watching her with an odd expression. "You just scared ten years off my life, young lady."

"I stopped by to drop off some things," Lauren said. "I thought maybe you wanted some company after your day in the spotlight?"

"Honey, it's your day off. You didn't have to come by," Paula said.

"I didn't mean as Lauren your assistant. Just as a friend. Someone to talk to?" Lauren said.

"Oh," Paula said. She was touched. She'd never really had an assistant like Lauren. All her help in the past had been focused on either fame by association or just staying out of Paula's way. "It's been an odd day."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lauren asked.

"I made out with Simon," Paula blurted, the need to tell somebody overwhelming.

"What?" Lauren asked. "But you said..."

"I practically jumped him downstairs, the world saw us on the beach, and now, just now, I kissed him in the car. Just right now!" Paula said, the words spilling out of her. "I'm a crazy person."

Lauren cocked her head to one side and looked like she was about to say something very important.

"I'm going to make us a drink," she said, getting off her stool and moving toward the liquor cabinet.

"The last thing I need to feel is more intoxicated," Paula said.

"Well, I'm going to make me one, then," Lauren said. "You go upstairs. Put on something comfortable. I'll be right up." Paula climbed the stairs, suddenly entirely thrilled in the way that her day had ended. She'd kissed a handsome (arrogant, cocky, egomaniacal) man, scored the key to a Malibu mansion, and was now going to lay in her bed with a girlfriend and dish. It had been a long time since she'd trusted another woman the way Lauren was turning out to be trustworthy.

Her phone chimed in her purse and she paused at her bed to dig it out. It was a text from Ryan that read, "If you had gotten a ROOM you wouldn't be on the internet right now."

She laughed. If he only knew.


	6. In which people are not what they seem

"So basically," Lauren said. "You went on a date." They were both in Paula's bed, tucked under the duvet, still giggling and talking into the darkness.

"I didn't say that," Paula said.

"But you did. He came and picked you up. You spent the day together. You went to dinner. You kissed good night," Lauren said. "That's a date."

"We're friends," Paula argued.

"From what I've observed, if it isn't Idol related, you're not really in the same place," Lauren said. Paula swallowed. That's exactly what she'd been thinking earlier, how it had been odd for Simon to contact her with no American Idol obligations. "So why was today different?"

"I don't have to answer your questions," Paula said. Lauren laughed.

"Okay," she said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about you," Paula said. " My life is so complicated. I've barely gotten to know about yours, which is terrible of me. Tell me about your family."

"Oh," said Lauren, sounding slightly less sure of her self now. It was easy to play puppet master to Paula's schedule and life, but she didn't tend to open up about her self. "My mom is a wedding planner and my dad is in real estate," she said. "I have an older brother. He lives in the bay area."

"Just the four of you?"

"Yes," said Lauren. "And our dog."

"How... nuclear," Paula laughed. "I want to meet them some time."

"To tell you the truth," Lauren said, shifting around. "They, uh, they don't really know I work for you."

"WHAT?" asked Paula, sitting up – Lauren could see her small outline from the light through the window. "Why?"

Lauren turned on a lamp.

"I love my job, don't get me wrong. But my parents really wanted me to go get a masters and start my own business but I needed a break for school... and I just think that, maybe, being a personal assistant, while very satisfying, is not their idea of furthering my academic career," she said carefully.

"Wow," said Paula. "You're ashamed of me."

"NO!" Lauren said. "I'm really not. I thought, when I took this job, I said, what am I getting myself into, but it turned out to be a good fit, I think."

"Yes," Paula agreed. "Well okay. What do they think you do?"

"I told them I'm working for an upstart event planning company. It explains the travel and constant phone calls," she said.

"Do they watch Idol?" Paula pressed.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that stint with Simon and the tea set will air," Paula said. "So you'd better tell them before January!"

"I..." she shook her head. "That will not air, you're just trying to scare me."

"Does anyone know you work for me?" she asked.

"My best friend," she said. "She's the only one."

"We'll figure out a way to tell the world," Paula said.

"Because I'm forever your girl?" Lauren said. Paula hit her in the head with a pillow.

oooo

When Paula woke up, Lauren was gone. In the kitchen were fresh bagels and a note that said Lauren had gone to run some errands and to enjoy breakfast.

"Wish I was dating you," Paula muttered to Lauren's handwriting. The note had been scribed in purple sharpie on yellow notepaper decorated with sunflowers.

Paula knew she probably went to get the dry cleaning so they could pack for Miami and Philadelphia, which were so back to back that she wouldn't come home in between. Paula ate her bagel and took the dogs out. By the time she was out of the shower, Lauren had returned and they finished the extensive task of packing a superstar. Lauren was a trooper and didn't complain as they loaded everything into the car. At least this time, Lauren was on her flight, in the seat next to her.

In the car, navigating the freeways, Lauren seethed.

"I hate LAX," she said. "Stupid airports. Stupid flying."

"Wow," said Paula. "How are you doing, kiddo?"

"I don't see why there has to be so much traffic. GO HOME PEOPLE!" Lauren shouted.

"Take Sepulveda, it's faster," Paula offered.

"That's a myth," said Lauren. "Everyone always says Sepulveda is faster. Never have I seen it be faster."

"This is gonna be a fun day," Paula said, letting her head rest against the seat.

"Sorry," Lauren said but clearly didn't mean it.

"I'm going to give you until we get on the plane to get out of this snit," Paula said. "And then you can either be happy or tell me what's wrong."

"Fine," said Lauren. They spent the rest of the drive in silence. Lauren checked them in and then gave Paula her ticket so she could go wait in the first class lounge while Lauren dealt with the luggage. Half of Lauren's job was making sure Paula didn't get swarmed in public. Luckily, a place like LAX was filled with other celebrities and people who were so tired of traveling and disenchanted with L.A. life that they didn't care who walked by.

When Lauren finally appeared in the lounge, she sat in stony silence next to Paula until they boarded the plane. In their seats, they listened to the pre-flight routine that the attendant did without saying a word. Finally, in the air, Paula turned to Lauren and smacked her lightly on the arm.

"Where's the other Lauren?" she asked. "Can she come back now?"

"It's really nothing," Lauren said.

"Sweetie, you are the most level headed person I have ever met. This is not nothing," Paula said.

"Well," Lauren said, starting to look kind of embarrassed. "I took your advice and told my boyfriend what my real job was and we got in this huge fight about honesty and confidentiality and it was just..." She shook her head.

"Oh my god, you have a boyfriend?" Paula exclaimed.

"Well probably not anymore!" she said.

"What's his name?" Paula asked.

"Jamie," she said. "I just... I didn't want to be the girl who worked for the famous lady, you know?"

"But you obviously knew Randy," Paula pointed out. "He's famous."

"That happened in a really roundabout way," Lauren said. "My best friend Marissa used to nanny for his kids. I mean, I'd met him but I didn't really... anyway."

"So let me get this straight. Jamie, right?" Lauren nodded. "Jamie was mad because you'd been lying to him for like eight months?"

"I know that he has a point. It's just... he didn't even let me explain. And he wanted me to stay and talk things out which takes like four days with him and I had to go to Miami and he wanted me to cancel and I told him you don't just cancel going to Miami with Paula Abdul and he was mad that I didn't even come home last night and that I'd sprung this on him at 6:00 am but he knows that I have early hours..." She trailed off. "This is really boring."

"I don't find your personal life boring," Paula assured her. "Maybe you just need some time apart."

"How about forever?" she said. "I don't have time for a boyfriend anyway."

"If I have time, you have time," Paula said.

"But you don't have a boyfriend," Lauren said. "Unless you mean you-know-who of last night's faux date fame."

"I didn't say that," Paula said. Lauren looked at her knowingly. "We are not talking about me right now."

"Well we're not talking about me either," Lauren said defiantly.

"Oh look," said Paula. "A movie."

oooo

Paula had to keep reminding herself that there was just Miami and Philadelphia and then they would be done with auditions and she could have a few months to relax. Well, not relax, exactly. She and Randy would go into the studio to record "Dance Like There's No Tomorrow." She was going back on QVC – Lauren had said that she was lucky they offered her another spot after her last erratic encounter. Then she'd have to choreograph a dance for the new song, especially if there was going to be a video. And Randy had been talking about debuting it somewhere big, really big.

So not exactly relax.

She did understand that Simon would be going back to England for nearly three months. It made her feel kind of sick inside when she thought about it. He was one of the busiest people she knew, he had to go back, but there was a tiny part of her that wanted to ask him to stay.

Her suite in Miami was a fifteen-minute car ride from AmericanAirlines Arena and she knew Lauren would be beating down her door at any moment. Daniel had finished her hair and make-up and had already left for the arena to set up in case she needed touch-ups. All she had to do was find her shoes and wait for the limo to arrive.

And just like clockwork, there was a knock on her door.

"Come in!" she called, leaning over to fish her pump out from under the bed. How did she keep losing her shoes like this?

"Nice view," Simon said. She stood up and spun around to see that he'd clearly been staring at her ass.

"Hi!" she said. "I thought you were Lauren."

"Ah, yes. Your industrious assistant. I sent her on ahead so that you could ride with me," he said. "I don't think she likes me."

"She likes you just fine. She doesn't at all trust you," Paula said, sitting on the edge of the bed to slide on her shoes.

"Smart girl," said Simon. He offered her a hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet and into his arms. She hugged him back, resting her head over the place that his heart beat. "Come on, the car is waiting."

They separated for the walk down into the lobby and out side where they were ushered into the back of the car.

"Where's Randy?" she asked when the back of the car was empty.

"He'll be along," Simon said vaguely. He sat next to her and shut the door. The car started to roll away and she looked at him. "Different car," he explained as he rolled up the partition between them and the driver. "How've you been?"

"You mean since the whole days of not seeing you?" she teased.

"Did you get a call from Nigel about the tabloids?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "He didn't seem too upset."

"The man loves his ratings," Simon said. "Did he ask you if they were true?"

"I told him that you and I were the same as we ever were," she said, coyly.

"Ah," he said. "How ambiguous."

"Well," she said. "What did you say?"

"I said the same thing I told you. Any press is good press," he said. As the car turned, Paula slid into his side and he smiled at her, holding her wrist so she didn't move away again.

"Simon," she said warningly. "Are you going to behave today?"

"I'm behaving," he said, pushing back the curtain of her hair to reveal her neck. He traced a finger down her jugular and she let her eyes flutter closed. She couldn't deny she'd been thinking about him touching her all day. She crossed her legs so that her high-heeled foot could run up and down his calf. He put his hand on her thigh and worried the hem of her short skirt. She waited for his lips to make contact with her neck but then the car pulled to a stop and she heard the driver cut the engine and open his door to come let them out. They reluctantly untangled themselves into a respectable position for when the door opened. As soon as they exited the limo, they were faced with cameras waiting to get shots of them arriving for the day. Paula hoped she didn't appear as flushed as she felt on film.

It still took an hour for filming to begin. Simon spent the first part of the day with his arm draped over the back of her chair playing with a piece of hair until finally Brian came over to tell him to "stop fondling Paula in every goddamn shot."

"Aw, man, remember the good old days when you two used to hate each other?" Randy joked. "Can we get a little of that?

And for the rest of the shoot, Simon was horribly mean to her. Even though Paula knew that Simon was just following direction, by the end of the day she felt close to tears and she and Lauren left the moment she was given the clear to do so.

"He was just playing to the camera," Lauren said, finally, when they were back at the hotel. They both sat on the edge of the tub with their feet in hot water. Paula was being quiet with a tinge of sad and Lauren was getting a little worried.

"I know," Paula said. "I'm fine."

"Okay. Can I get you anything?" Lauren asked.

"I just want to sit here and be quiet," Paula said. There was a knock at the door and Lauren rose to answer, padding across hotel carpet in her bare, wet feet. Simon was at the door.

"Get out," he said. Lauren understood that he was not joking, abandoned her shoes, grabbed her bag, and left. Simon followed the noise of trickling water into the bathroom and saw Paula's hunched back so small against the expansive tub.

"Who was it?" she asked. When she didn't get an answer, she turned to look at her assistant and, for the second time that day, saw Simon instead. At the sight of him, she could no longer contain herself. Her face crumpled into tears.

"Oh Paula," he said and sat down on the tub edge in the opposite direction. She brought a hand to her mouth to try to stifle the tears. "I'm so sorry." He opened his arms but she didn't lean into him. Instead, she turned away trying to contain herself. She pressed her palms into her cheeks and took a wavering breath.

"I just want to be alone," she said when she could trust her voice.

"You know that I didn't mean..."

"I don't know!" she said, swiping angrily at her eyes, the tears falling despite her best intentions. "You're brutal, Simon, but you're always, always truthful. I can't... I've got to protect myself from you."

"I don't understand," he said.

"I'm saying that I've had my heart broken enough and that you're never going to be faithful and that I think we need to just go back to being co-workers and nothing more," she said.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes," she said, sounding much more sure than she felt.

"Then I don't care what you want," Simon said, crossing his arms in a familiar pose.

"What?" she asked.

"Why do you get to decide the terms of our friendship?" he asked.

"Because!" she wailed. "This isn't a friendship! This is... flirting and saying things just to hurt and occasionally inappropriate touching, at most."

"You're wrong," he said. "You're wrong and I'll prove it."

"How?" she asked.

"By being the best friend you've ever had," he said.

"I don't want any more empty promises, Simon." She said, turning and stepping out of the tub. She wiped her feet on the bathmat and walked into the bedroom. He followed and she crossed her arms and stood by the door. "I just want to go to sleep. Could you go?"

"This isn't over," he said and when she didn't respond, he let himself out.

"Funny," she whispered to the empty room. "It feels like it's over."


	7. In which Simon makes nice

When Simon walked out of the room, he saw Lauren sitting on the floor against the wall in the hallway. She looked up at him with an accusatory gaze.

"Come off it," he muttered, looking down at her.

"I didn't say anything," Lauren said, standing up so he wasn't looking down at her.

"Just remember you are far more replaceable than I am," Simon said.

"Is that a threat?" Lauren asked.

"Just a fact, doll."

"Look," Lauren said. "It hasn't been easy turning her life around. Please don't turn her into a wreck now."

"She's the one who is causing all of this!" Simon said.

"You were cruel today," Lauren snapped. "You know you were."

"You need to learn the difference between reality and TV," Simon said back, just as harshly.

"I know Paula and..."

"No you don't! I've known her for seven years! You're not her mother and you can stay the hell out of it!" Simon yelled, interrupting.

"Then you should know you can't just turn it on and off with her!" Lauren yelled back.

Their fight was interrupted with Paula opened the door, no longer crying but looking furious.

"Simon, go away. Lauren, get in here, now," Paula said, her voice low. Both of them shut their mouths and flushed with guilt. Simon turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall while Lauren slunk into the room. Paula slammed the door and faced her assistant with crossed arms.

"I'm sorry," Lauren said.

"Tell me, what makes you think a hotel hallway is the appropriate place to yell about me?" Paula asked.

"It totally isn't," Lauren said.

"What were you thinking?" Paula asked. Lauren didn't say anything. "Well?"

"He makes you... not yourself," Lauren said. "I just... I want what's best for you."

"That isn't your job," Paula said. "Just..." She put her head in her hands. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Paula, I'm so sorry," she said meekly.

When Lauren and Simon with both gone, Paula got into bed and turned off the lights, but she didn't sleep.

oooo

The rest of Miami was long and uncomfortable, but on the flight to Philadelphia, Paula decided to stop punishing Lauren with her silence. Lauren had been walking on eggshells for the last two days and while Paula was still ticked about the fight, Lauren was too invaluable to alienate.

"We're done fighting now," Paula said. Lauren looked skeptical for a second.

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Paula and smiled at the look of relief on her assistants face.

"Good," Lauren said. "And again, I'm sorry."

"I know. You're going to make it up to me," Paula said. Lauren closed her eyes briefly, as if in pain. She was about to miss the silence.

"How?" she asked.

"I'm, as you know, not currently speaking to Simon. And I will not speak to him unless on camera. If he wants to talk to me, he has to talk to you," Paula said. "Got it?"

"He hates me! In fact, hate really isn't a strong enough word for what he feels. He loathes me," Lauren said pleadingly. Paula pulled the latest issue of People out of her bag.

"I'm sure you'll find someway to manage," she said.

oooo

Simon really wanted to speak to Paula. In the first hour they arrived at the hotel, Lauren intercepted three phone calls, a bouquet of flowers, and Simon in person.

"You can see her at the arena," Lauren said, planting herself in front of the door.

"Move," Simon said, "I'm serious."

"No, I'm serious. She's in with Daniel right now. She doesn't want to see you," Lauren said. For a moment, she feared Simon was going punch her. She saw his fingers flexing at his sides.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "Tell her I want to see her."

"She knows," Lauren says. Simon rolled his eyes and disappeared down the hall. Lauren slipped back into the room. Daniel glanced at her and she nodded to let him know that it was Simon. Paula didn't want to talk about it with either of them and had her nose buried in her phone.

"You're all set, gorgeous," Daniel said, pulling the plug on the curling iron. "Knock 'em dead."

"Thank you!" Paula cooed.

"We're running ten minutes late so let's roll," Lauren said, ushering Paula out the door, moving quickly, hoping Simon had really taken the hint and wasn't waiting for them around the corner.

Paula was the last to arrive on set and icily took her seat between Randy and Simon so they could start filming.

"Sorry," Paula said to Randy. He just squeezed her hand and motioned to send the first of the last in. Simon, to his benefit, didn't try to catch her eye, didn't touch her and barely threw a word her way. Finally the contestant, who'd been pretty decent, finished and Simon started talking.

"Randy, yes or no?" he asked.

"You know, dawg, I kind of like you. I think you have potential so I'm gonna say yes," Randy said. "What do you think Paula Abdul?"

"I think that you need to practice between here and Hollywood but that you have it in you to be something special," Paula said. "I say yes."

"You're through to Hollywood," Simon said, tossing his papers back down in front of him. The guy let out a gleeful shout, collected his ticket, and went out the door.

"Cut!" called Brian.

"What?" asked Randy, looking confused. They rarely stopped rolling once they started since it was reality and unpredictable things happened all the time.

"What's with you two?" Brian asked Simon and Paula.

"Paula isn't speaking to me," Simon said. "I'm trying to respect that."

"What?" Brian asked.

"I'm not speaking to him off camera," Paula clarified. "It won't affect our work."

"It is already!" Brian said, slipping his headphones back on. "We're all making too much money for you to fuck it up now."

"Piss off," Simon muttered.

"I heard that!" Brian said, sitting back down. "Let's go."

Simon looked at her – she was a little flustered from being chastised and she finally met his eye.

"Truce?" he said.

"Sure," she said with a curt nod. He grabbed the arm of her chair and rolled her towards him.

"I've been trying to talk to you for days, my darling," he said. "Did you get my flowers?"

"Yes," she said. He put his arm across her shoulder and she flinched, but didn't push him away. The door opened and Ryan sent another girl through. She grinned.

"Yo," Randy said.

"What's your name?" Simon asked.

"Caitlyn," she said. "Wow. Paula Abdul."

"Hi honey," Paula said with a warm smile.

"I can't believe I'm standing in front of Paula Abdul!" she gushed.

"What about me?" asked Simon, feigning hurt.

"I know! You're touching Paula Abdul!" she said. He rolled his eyes.

"Not enough," Simon whispered and Paula covered it with a cough. In the end, the girl didn't go through but did score a hug from Paula.

By the time lunch rolled around, they were all frustrated with the lack of talent. Paula and Simon had been acting normally on camera but as soon as they broke, she stood and left the room. Simon moved quickly after her, hoping to catch her before fun Nazi Lauren arrived to shield her from him. She was walking by a custodial closet when he caught up with her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the closet with him so quickly that no one around saw a thing.

"What the fuck?" she asked. He felt around for a light switch and finally found it. They were wedged between some shelves and a cart filled with mops and toilet paper.

"You have to talk to me," he said.

"Why?"

"Because I miss you," he said. "Because when I don't talk to you, I think about you all the time. It's like I'm a junkie and I need a fix."

"Don't charm me," she spat. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Please forgive me," he begged, and he looked sincerely pained. "Please, please, please forgive me. Let me make it up to you. Do you want a puppy? I'll get you the cutest damn puppy on the planet. A new car? You can have my Bentley. Jewelry? Anything you want, anything."

"Stop it," she said, laughing. "Okay, okay, you're pathetic."

"I can get worse. Do you want me on my knees?" he asked.

"Couldn't hurt," she said. He got down on his knees and put his hands on her waist.

"I am a lesser being," he said, dramatically. "You are a golden goddess." She grinned and put her hands on his hand, pulling his face into her stomach. He stood up but didn't step back so they were close. He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Simon," she said. "This is a vicious cycle that we're in."

"I know," he said, leaning down to kiss her other cheek.

"You hurt me and then you make up," she said. "Why should I believe you won't just hurt me again?"

"Because I never want you to sick your terrible assistant on me ever again," he said. She leaned up on the balls of her feet to place a soft kiss on his cheek in return.

"She isn't terrible," Paula said, kissing his other cheek. "She's protective."

"She's a shrew," Simon said, sliding his hands up her arms to grab her face. "She keeps me away from you." He tilted his head and pressed his mouth to hers. This was exactly what she didn't want to happen. She didn't want to be alone with him because the second she was, she knew he'd worm his way back into her good graces. Now she was standing next to a musty broom, opening her mouth so that Simon could deepen the kiss.

Someone's hand on the handle of the door made them spring apart. The door opened and a maid gasped.

"Sorry," Simon said, taking Paula's hand. "We got a little lost." He chuckled as the exited the closet and made their way to the lunch room.

Lauren was waiting for them and threw up her hands in defeat when they entered smiling, hand in hand. Paula shrugged when they saw her and Simon stuck out his tongue.

"Nyah, nyah, nyah," he said.

oooo

Lauren wisely held her tongue about the whole situation. She left Paula early, reminding her of her scheduled lights out time and was not at all surprised to pass Simon in the hall. She stopped him by sticking out her hand.

"I hope there's no hard feelings," she said. "I was just doing my job."

Simon shook her hand.

"Woman makes us crazy," he agreed. Feeling more at ease, he let himself into Paula's room.

"Hey Si," she said. She was sitting on the floor on a yoga mat, stretching.

"Good God you are flexible," he said. "Lord, is that even healthy?"

"I'm trying to get back into shape so I can start dancing again," she said.

"I've seen you dance," he said. "I don't see any problems."

"That was for fun. I mean really dancing. Bending and moving in new and interesting ways. I'm not 25 anymore," she said. He watched her and saw her wince. There was a thin layer of sweat across her forehead.

"It's hurting you," he said.

"Yeah," she replied. "I've been off the heavy duty meds for a while and... you know... my back."

"Well take a rest," he said. She nodded and tried to stand up but then cried out and sat back down.

"Damn it," she said. "I pushed it too far." He rushed over to help her up and on to the bed where she laid back.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It's okay, I'm used to it."

"Can't I give you a back rub or something?" he offered.

"You'd like that," she said, experimentally rolling her shoulders. He could hear the joint popping unnaturally.

"If it will help, I'd be glad," he said. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically.

"All right," she said. He helped her sit up and she reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled up. He'd seen her in her bra before – in the sauna, in the dance studio, in almost every music video she'd ever produced, but for some reason, her willingness to take this off with just him in the room was incredibly sexy. She lay down on her stomach and waited for him. He kicked off his shoes.

"Can I just say that I'm living a fantasy of many men right now?" he said, swinging his leg over her so he could hover above.

"Just start rubbing," she said.

"Oh, how I wish I got that on tape," he whispered. He carefully unclasped the back of her bra and laid the strips of red lace aside. Her back was small, compact, but he could see the muscles spasm beneath her skin. He started pressing into the tender muscles and she groaned. "Too hard?"

"A good pain," she said. He could see the thin white scars from her numerous surgeries. He wanted to lean down and kiss them but he could tell her pain was real. After about twenty minutes she stopped him. "It hurts too much for you to keep going," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning back.

"No, you helped," she promised. He hooked her bra back together and then lay down next to her, his head on the other pillow. "Will you stay?" she asked. "Keep me company for a while?"

"You did miss me," he said.

"A little," she admitted. She rolled over so that she press pressed against him and he put his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. "A lot." He let his fingers trace lightly along her spine and she pressed her face into his neck and breathed deeply. It was nice to fit so snugly into someone else's arms. While he wanted to touch her everywhere, he also had promised to be a good friend, so he just held her. After a while, Paula pulled the blanket up over them and soon they were both asleep.


	8. In which they do everything but

Paula woke up early. She always woke up early on audition days, on most days really, but it was only 5:06am according to the clock on the nightstand. She had another hour before she really had to think about getting up, getting showered, and bogging through another day mad at Simon.

No wait, hadn't they made up? Her sleep fogged mind struggled to remember. She tried to roll over and was stopped by two things. Her back was sore, stiff in a way it hadn't been in a while, and someone was pinning her down.

She looked down and saw an arm lying heavily across her bare stomach. Her eyes followed it up to the elbow, to the shoulder, and then to the man attached. Simon was in her bed and she was kind of naked.

Then she remembered. The backrub, the snuggling, and when she moved her feet a little, she could feel she still had her pants on which was a good sign. She remembered asking him to stay for a while. They must have fallen asleep. She wanted to go back to sleep, actually, but was a little unsettled that yesterday she was as mad at Simon as she has ever been and now they were asleep in the same bed, tangled like comfortable lovers. She ran her hand over his forearm and he tightened his hold on her, sighing in his sleep. Her cantankerous co-host really was a cuddlebug. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead and tugged lightly on his earlobe. He moved again, with another heavy sigh and brought his lips against her bare shoulder. He kissed it.

"Sleep, love," he mumbled and she smiled. The smile faltered after a moment though. She'd woken up disoriented and unsure of who was in bed with her. Maybe he thought he was with Terri or some leggy blonde thing that was seven feet taller than Paula. She wiggled until one of her legs was hooked over his and arched her back a little so the arm on her flat stomach rose and fell with her movement. When nothing happened, she moved a little more, as if she were trying to find a comfortable spot. "Paula, go to sleep," Simon said and bit her shoulder lightly where his mouth rested, as a warning.

She smiled.

"I can't," she whispered. Paula was one of those people who opened their eyes and was awake. She could rarely wake up and then go back to sleep again. If she were alone, she might lie in bed a while long with her eyes closed, but she would just be dozing, never fully unconscious. Simon finally opened his eyes to see her looking down at him. He moved his arm down so that his large hand was on her stomach and he started rubbing little warm circles on her bare flesh.

"You can," he said. "Close your eyes." Paula did as he told, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. His hand on her tummy was comforting and she was just feeling like maybe she actually could get a few more minutes of sleep when his hand began to wander. He traced the line of her pants just below her hips and moved back up, running his thumb along the skin just below her under wire. Paula gasped and instinctively raised her hips, trying to get more contact. The evil hands moved back to safer ground and she wanted to scream.

She heard him chuckle. She wanted to punch him but thought it might be unproductive.

"Tease," she accused.

"Me?" he said in disbelief. "You!"

"I am not," she said, knowing she was. Teasing and frustration was the basis of their entire relationship; at least, it had been. Now they were in uncharted territory.

"You are," he said, mumbling into her skin. "You make me miserable."

"I try," she said. His hand started it's ascent again, but instead of cupping her breast like she so desperately wanted, he started tracing her collarbones, back and forth, dipping at her throat. She swallowed every time his finger passed over the soft skin of her neck. She wanted to say something, to say his name or ask him why he was torturing her but she was afraid of she spoke he would stop. His hand wormed up her neck and into her hair, scratching lightly at the base of her skull before moving back down and tracing squiggly patterns on the skin of her arm. Her breathing was beginning to pick up. But when she looked at him, he looked the same – unconcerned, sleepy, eyes-closed.

After several minutes, she'd begin to recognize his pattern – up and down, left and right, always just missing the areas she really wanted touched. She realized it was a holding pattern and he was waiting for permission. Did she want to give it? She could stop this now, she could firmly tell him no, to go to his own room and he would go. Maybe things wouldn't even change.

He was toying with the waistband of her pants, playing with the drawstring but not pulling hard enough to untie the bow. She couldn't take it. She put her hand on his and started pushing up, guiding his hand to her left breast.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his raspy voice the first signal that he, too, was feeling the heat.

"No," she whispered. But she pressed his hand more firmly and it was all the invitation he needed. He rolled over, moved atop her and started kissing her frantically. It wasn't a gentle kiss; his mouth was pressed hard into hers. Their teeth clinked; their tongues dueled. It was surprising at first, but soon she'd adjusted and bent her knees to allow him to lie more comfortably between her legs. She could feel the heaviness of his erection through his jeans – how had he slept in jeans? – against her center and she couldn't help but thrust her hips, grinding against him, which only made him kiss her harder.

His hand kneaded her breast; his fingers worked her nipple into a hard nub. It was almost too much, on just this side of pain when he moved and started on her other breast. He finally tore his lips away from hers to lick and bite at her neck, giving them both a chance to catch their breath.

"You've wanted me for so long," she gasped, trying to tease him to lighten the mood.

"Yes," he gasped, pushing his hips into her, admitting it freely. This was shocking. Usually he was on the ball with their little game of cat and mouse, always one upping her with his comebacks, and she'd never seen him give in so quickly. Which meant only one thing. He really had wanted her for so long. His talk had carried around a nugget of truth for years. It was mind-boggling.

And it made her want him all the more.

She locked her ankles around his back, arching so high that he groaned loudly. She put her hands on his face and forced his mouth back to hers. It was to the point where if there were no clothes between them, they would have been having sex. For Paula, dirty, amazing, hot sex, if this was any indication.

"Jesus," Simon gasped, pulling his mouth away. "Slow down. I need..."

"What?" she said.

"I need to touch more of you," he begged. She nodded. His eyes were glassy and dilated and she imagined she looked much the same.

"Okay," she said. He kissed down her front to her breast and latched on to one of her nipples. The contrast of his slick, smooth tongue and the rough lace was too much and she cried out, holding on to his head, alternately pulling him toward her and pushing him away. It was too much feeling and sensation. Her head swam with it.

Distantly, she thought she heard her phone ring but she couldn't be bothered.

Simon managed to get her bra off without her realizing it. She saw it, dimly, flying away from the bed and it was just his mouth on her. She wrapped her arms around him, touching all of his back that she could. She got a hold of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He tossed it aside and their hands clashed as they both tried to go for each other's pants. Paula won, though, and unbuttoned his jeans. She wanted them off, but that was too much work so she reached her hand in and circled his cock with a squeeze.

"Oh God, oh God," Simon moaned. "Yes."

Paula started stroking him slowly, experimentally while he moaned into her neck as if in agony.

There was a loud knocking at her door.

"Damn," Paula said. "That's Lauren."

"She can sod off," Simon said, and whimpered as Paula withdrew her hand.

"She has a key," Paula said. "Baby, move." She pushed him off and he muttered under his breath what sounded a lot like curse words. Paula found her tank top on the floor and threw it on inside out. She looked down and saw that it didn't exactly make her chest decent but rushed to the door just as Lauren slid her key in. She opened it a crack.

"Hey," said Lauren, surprised. "You are awake. You didn't answer your phone."

"What's up?" she asked, resisting the urge to wipe her mouth or fluff her hair.

"Daniel had a family emergency. You have to go to the arena early to be made up by Idol staff," Lauren said apologetically.

"Okay, fine," Paula said. "See you there." She started to close the door.

"Wait," Lauren said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Usually Daniel's absence resulted in a mini-meltdown and she was being awfully cavalier about it. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Paula said. "I need to shower." She closed the door. Lauren glared at the closed door, just inches from his face, knowing that Paula was hiding something. Knowing, without a doubt, that Simon Cowell was inside that room.

oooo

Simon stood beside the bed bare-chested with his jeans undone. He ran his hands through his hair a little shyly. Paula smiled at him, crossing her arms against the suddenly noticeable chill of the morning.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Mini hair and make-up drama," Paula said. "It's fine."

"So..." he said, trailing off. "We almost just had sex there."

"Yep," she said. "We almost did." After a beat of uncomfortable silence, he walked over to her and hugged her. She raised her chin and kissed him, feeling relieved that he didn't run away.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised as if reading her mind.

"I know," she whispered. "Except for you have to go."

"What?"

"I have to go to the arena early to get made up," she said.

"I'll ride with you," Simon said.

"Really?"

"Yep. Meet you in the lobby at 6:30?" he said. She nodded. He kissed her again and went to gather his clothes while she went to shower.

With the water running hotly over her, she let her forehead rest against he cool tile for a moment. Six and a half years of foreplay had proved to be too much and they had almost snapped. She had wanted him badly and she wanted him still. They had really crossed a line and she knew they were either going to sleep together or end their friendship. Maybe, she thought worriedly, both.

Her shower was fast and she dressed quickly, pulling her hair into an inconspicuous ponytail. She put on her big sunglasses and a trench coat and made her way down to the lobby hoping not to be seen. Simon was there and they made it into the waiting limo with no incidences.

Simon, as usual, had the partition rolled up between them and the driver. This hotel wasn't as close to the arena as they were used to being. They had to get on the freeway and just as they were pulling away, the driver's voice on the intercom informed them of a traffic accident that was going to add at least twenty minutes on to their journey.

"I guess I should just resign myself to being late for today," Paula said. "I hope Nigel doesn't kill me."

"It will be fine. You can't be blamed for traffic," he said. "Besides, I think I know what we can do to kill the time."

"What?" she asked. He was sitting across from her and he smiled wickedly. "I don't trust that look." He grabbed her legs and tugged, so she lost her balance and slid down with a small yelp. He undid the sash of her coat to see the short dress she wore – so many dresses this season.

"Maybe try to finish a little of what we started?" he said, kneeling on the carpet in front of her.

"Simon," she hissed. "We're not exactly alone."

"You'll have to be quiet, then," he said. He slid his hands up under her dress and hooked his fingers through the elastic of her underwear. She gasped, realizing that he was serious. She tried to bring her knees together, but he tugged the underwear off and tucked it into his pocket.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she breathed. He kissed her knee and pushed the skirt up as he kissed further and further up her thigh until she could feel his breath against her. He was really going to do it – he was really going to go down on her in the limo and she was going to let him.

"Oh, but it is," he said, placing a kiss on her thigh before running his tongue through her wetness. She gasped and tried not to jerk her knees into his head. He put his hands on her knees to stabilize her as he pushed his tongue inside her. Any calmness or sanity she'd regained since Lauren interrupted them was immediately gone.

She was suddenly really glad there were never any cameras in the limo. She grabbed hold of his hair and tried not to thrust against him. His tongue found her clit and began to circle it roughly. He wasn't wasting any time. He was trying to get her off as quickly as possibly and it was working.

"Fingers," she gasped and he took the hint and pushed a finger inside her, then two, curving them as he thrusted. He played with angles until she hissed in pleasure and he knew he'd found the right spot. He sucked her clit in between his teeth and bit down lightly. "I'm gonna... Simon, I'm gonna..."

He moaned against her, adding a third finger and her vision swam in the most familiar way. Suddenly her hips were bucking up off the seat and she was holding him against her so hard that she was sure to be suffocating him. But he was relentless and kept licking her through wave after wave of her orgasm. She didn't care if she was screaming or whimpering or groaning loudly. It was the most amazing feeling and when her body finally relaxed, she collapsed back down into the seat and he kissed her lightly and petted her soothingly while she regained her bearings. He kissed down her leg until he sat back on his heels and grinned at her, his lips wet with her juices.

She looked at him, her expression shocked. If she hadn't been there, she wouldn't have believed what had just happened. She lunged at him, pressing her mouth against his. She could taste herself mixed with essence of Simon and it was intoxicating. She fumbled for his jeans and undid the zipper.

"We don't have time," he moaned as she fished him out of his boxers. "We don't have protection."

As much as she wanted to sink down on him at the moment, he was right. This was neither the time nor the place for the first time she fucked Simon. Instead she pushed him back onto the seat and returned the favor by getting down on her knees and kissing the weeping tip of his penis. He let his head fall back and sunk his hands into her damp hair, which had come loose. She licked him from base to tip before sucking it all into her mouth. The sight of Paula on her knees with hollowed out cheeks was almost too much in its self.

He watched her head bob up and down. Her hot, silky mouth felt amazing on him and soon he was thrusting into her lips uncontrollably. She kept up a fast rhythm, using her free hand to massage his balls. He prided himself in his stamina, but after their morning romp and getting her off, he was already to his limit and this pushed him over the edge.

"Paula," he said, trying to warn her, but she just gave him one, last hard suck and he was gone. He shot into her mouth and she swallowed what he gave her, licking him clean. They felt the limo begin to slow. "Oh my God," he said. She leaned back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"That should take the edge off," she said, pulling her skirt back down and closing her coat. He was boneless and in awe of what had just happened. "Simon!" she said. He realized he was still exposed and the engine had been turned off. He hastily tucked himself away and had just buttoned his jeans when the door opened. Paula slid out first, thanking the driver with a sweet smile. Simon followed, stumbling a little on the curb. His knees felt like jelly and he was still in disbelief that American Idol's sweetheart had returned his favor. She leaned into him as he opened the door to the arena for her.

"I need my underwear back before we go on air," she whispered.

"I'm never giving these back," he whispered, glancing around for cameras. It was still early and Paula wasn't made up so he didn't expect to see anyone filming yet, but he had to be sure. "If anything, I'm framing these over a sign that says best day ever."

"I'm serious," she said.

"So am I," he said. She glared at him as they got into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she turned to kiss him deeply. He felt her fish the panties out of his back pocket and tuck them into her own pocket but he didn't care. It wasn't even 8:00am and he'd already had two sexual encounters with Paula Abdul.

There would be more of her knickers in his future. He would make sure of that.


	9. In which agreements are made

After Philadelphia was wrapped, they all exhaustedly boarded the red eye back to Los Angeles. It had been too long since everyone had been home and they didn't want to waste any time. Paula missed her dogs, Randy missed his family, and Simon missed his cars. Lauren followed behind Paula with her overnight flight carry-on bag consisting of lots of water, a sleep mask, a blanket, and a soft pillow among other things. Paula sat next to Lauren but was aware of Simon, sitting next to Randy a few rows back. It was a full first class full of business people and young, rich men and women, all who seemed wholly unimpressed to be sharing their flight with the Idol judges. It was just how they liked it.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about your birthday," Paula said, looking over at Lauren.

"My what?" Lauren asked, surprised, looking up from her book.

"It's next week, right?" Paula asked. Lauren slid her finger between the pages and closed the book, giving Paula her full attention.

"You really don't have to worry about that sort of thing," she said.

"I want to," Paula said. "Now, tell me how old you'll be turning."

"Twenty-five," she said and Paula winced.

"Damn, I'm old," she said. "Anyway, I was thinking of having your party at..."

"My party?" Lauren squeaked.

"I always throw my assistants parties for their birthdays," Paula said. "I was thinking of holding it at Simon's Malibu house."

"Okay," Lauren said, suddenly too tired to argue with her crazy boss. "Maybe like, a nice dinner or something if you're adamant about celebrating it but I really don't think I need a party."

"You've been with me almost a year. You deserve a party whether or not it's your birthday, but since it is, on September 1st we are going to celebrate you," Paula said. "Friends, family the whole shebang."

Lauren paled.

"Oh my God," Paula said. "You still haven't told them!"

"Well, when I told Jamie it went so wrong... I mean, we broke up, so no I didn't tell them!" she hissed.

"Your family can't break up with you," Paula pointed out.

"You've not met my mother," Lauren said dryly. "I don't know about this."

"I do," Paula said. "It's gonna happen. Besides, I've already downloaded your contacts from your phone into my computer, so all I have to do is send out the invitations in the morning."

"I hate you," Lauren said, opening her book. "A lot."

"You do not," Paula laughed. "Now go trade seats with Simon."

"A-HA!" Lauren said, a little too loudly. She slunk down in her seat. "I mean I knew it! He was in your room this morning, wasn't he? WASN'T HE?"

"It doesn't exactly take a detective to have figured that out," Paula said. "That we can talk about later. Now go, watching you read is boring." Lauren sighed and gathered up her things, walking the long walk down the aisle to Simon. He smiled up at her smugly.

"The Queen wishes an audience with you," she said. Simon stood and made his way down toward Paula and Lauren sat heavily in the now unoccupied seat next to Randy.

"Please tell me they are just friends," Randy said. Lauren pressed her lips together firmly.

"Lauren, please tell they haven't actually... you know...." he begged, knowing it would make the rest of the season his personal hell.

"Officially I'm sure I have no idea to what you are referring," Lauren said.

"Unofficially?" he asked. Lauren made a disgusted expression and Randy put his head into his hands.

"Gross," he muttered. "So very, very gross."

oooo

When Simon sat down next to her, she pushed up the arm between the seats and snuggled into him. He tucked her blanket over them and she sighed. He could feel her breath on his neck. The lights of the cabin dimmed and they were cocooned in their dark, warm seats. Simon knew that if he had been flying with Terri or any other supermodel girlfriend, he'd be trying to slip his hand up her shirt right now, but for some reason, he just wanted to feel Paula asleep against him and nothing more. Under the blanket, she linked her fingers with hers. He gave her hand a squeeze.

oooo

They all parted ways at LAX. Lauren drove quietly toward Paula's house in the dim, dawn light. Though Paula had slept, she was still tired and neither felt like chatting. At the terminal, Simon had kissed her cheek and promised to call her. She had watched him slip into his limo and float away like she did every time this year. It had been odd. They weren't together, really. She had to keep telling herself that.

"Take a couple days off," Paula said when they'd arrived. "But don't forget about your party."

"Oh Paula," Lauren said.

"I'll let you know all the details," she said. "Bye sweetie."

"Bye," Lauren said, looking, at least, relieved to be going home for a few days. For all that Paula told to Lauren, for all the time they spent together, she really didn't know all that much about her assistant. She didn't know where she lived, any of her friends or family, if she had pets, what size shoe she wore... not enough. She hoped the party would be the beginning of the remedy for that.

Inside, the house was clean and still. Her housekeeper had been by the day before. There was a message in the machine from Wendy telling her she could come get her dogs whenever she was ready. Paula wanted to get into her car and speed to her sister's house to get her dogs, but she knew she should probably sleep for a few hours first. She trudged upstairs, leaving her luggage by the front door. She pulled off every stitch of clothing she had on and climbed into bed. She was asleep in moments.

The sun woke her. She hadn't bothered to draw the curtains and as soon as the sun hit her face she was awake. She rolled over to glance at her clock – it had been several hours. She decided to get out of bed. She stumbled to the shower and dressed in jeans and a white blouse. It was probably hot, but this would do just to get the doggies. She brushed her hair out and put in some product but decided after days on camera, her hair could probably use a day off from the blow dryer. She, instead, sat at the table on her balcony in the sun and allowed her hair to dry up into her natural curls. She had a stack of invitations for Lauren's party. She needed to make sure she had the guest list right, though. Simon hadn't been thrilled at the idea of celebrating Lauren but had said she could use the house if she wanted. She tried not to think about the fact that he would be returning to England the day after.

Now, she looked up the list of numbers she'd printed from Lauren's phone. She needed the advice of the one person who knew most about Lauren: her best friend Marissa. She dialed the number and waited.

"Elegance Event Planning, this is Marissa," the voice answered after a few rings.

"Hello, this is Paula Abdul," she said. There was an expected pause as the woman on the other end of the phone decided how to react to a celebrity cold calling her.

"Is Lauren okay?" she asked, finally, sounding worried.

"Oh yes," Paula said, "That isn't why I'm calling."

"Oh," said Marissa. "What can I do for you Miss Abdul?" Paula smiled at the strained voice.

"Well, I'm throwing a little party for your friend Lauren's birthday and I thought that perhaps you could help me?"

"Of course," Marissa said. "It's what I do."

"Do you have time to see me today? I'm doing everything last minute, as usual," Paula admitted.

"Sure," Marissa said. "I have time in the afternoon. You could come to the office or I could meet you somewhere."

"I'll come to you," Paula said. "One o'clock?"

"Sure," Marissa said. Paula hung up, pleased that Lauren's best friend hadn't screamed into her ear or flipped out. Paula tucked the invitations into her bag and went to go collect her doggies. Wendy didn't live far and was pleased to give Paula her dogs back.

"They're beasts!" Wendy exclaimed, while Paula rolled around on the floor, letting the dogs jump all over her.

"No!" Paula said, laughing as Tulip licked her face. "They missed their mommy."

"Take them," Wendy said.

"Okay, okay. You don't want to stay with your mean aunt Wendy anyway, do you?" she said to the dogs. "Oh, Wen, I have an invitation for you."

"For what?" her sister asked.

"Lauren's birthday," Paula said, fishing a yellow envelope out of her bag for her sister.

"Miss Lauren, I love her. Can we clone her? I want one," Wendy said, opening the envelope and sliding the scalloped invitation out to look at it. "Malibu?"

"At Simon's house," Paula admitted. "And by the way, did I tell you that he bought the house next door to Emilio?"

"NO!" Wendy said.

"I KNOW," said Paula. "He's such an ass."

"I saw those pictures, you know, of you at the beach. You two sure do a terrible job of convincing the public you aren't sleeping together," Wendy said. Paula picked up Thumbelina and buried her face into her fur. "Paula?"

"Well we aren't," said Paula.

"Oh. My. God."

"We haven't had sex!" Paula said.

"SIMON?" Wendy exclaimed. "COWELL?"

"You aren't listening to me," Paula whined.

"I know what that look means," Wendy said, crossing her arms. "Just like you didn't have sex with Peter Frankson in high school and how you didn't have sex with my boyfriend in college!"

"You were on a break," Paula said, sticking her tongue out. "And it isn't like that at all."

"You promised me there was nothing there," Wendy accused.

"Well," said Paula, delicately. "That was then."

"You bitch," Wendy said. "You tell me everything right now."

"I can't," Paula said airily, patting her leg to round up the other dogs. "I have to take the girls home and then I have a meeting with Lauren's best friend to finish up the party planning."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. I'll see you Saturday?" Paula pressed.

"This isn't over!" Wendy called as Paula and her dogs went out the door.

oooo

Paula was happy that she had GPS in her car when she tried to find Elegance Event Planning. It was tucked off the main route in a clean, new building. She was hit with a wall of air-conditioning when she opened the door. The receptionist was typing at her computer and did a double take when she looked up. Paula smiled.

"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, nearly bouncing in her seat.

"I'm here to see Marissa Meyers," Paula said, calmly.

"She didn't tell me you were coming," the girl said. "I'll ring her. Please, have a seat."

"Sure," Paula said, sitting primly. The receptionist whispered furtively into the phone for a moment before hanging up.

"She'll be right out!" Paula was informed. Soon, a woman came out to greet her. Paula stood and smiled.

"Hi, I'm Marissa," she said, shaking Paula's hand. "Come on back."

Marissa was taller than Paula, almost everyone was, and had dark hair and glasses. She wore a grey suit and her office was tidy, but well lived-in. She looked busy. The first thing she did was put the phone to voicemail and offer Paula something to drink.

"I'm fine," Paula said. "I know I'm interrupting your workday."

"I'm glad to have the interruption," Marissa admitted, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You're the most exciting thing that ever happened to poor Sarah out there."

"I noticed," Paula said, laughing. "I hope she's okay."

"She'll be fine," Marissa said. "Now, what is it about Lauren you need to know?"

"Well, I'm sure you and I both know she's kind of secretive about her life," Paula said and Marissa rolled her eyes to show she knew exactly what Paula was talking about. "I want to invite her family and friends but I'm not really sure who they are!"

"Lauren said you could invite Carol?" Marissa said, surprised.

"Carol?"

"Her mother," Marissa explained. "Lauren has been bending over backwards to hide you from her mother."

"I don't understand why," Paula said.

"It isn't you. It's Carol. She's... anti-Hollywood," Marissa said. "But I think she deserves the benefit of the doubt, I guess."

"I love Lauren," Paula said. "I really just want her to have a good birthday."

"Do you have invitations?" Marissa asked. Paula nodded. "If you leave them, I'll make sure they get to the right people."

"Thank you," Paula gushed. "I mean really. I would have been more on top of it, but we just finished filming auditions yesterday and I just..."

"It's my pleasure," Marissa said. "As long as I get an invite to Lauren's star-studded party."

They laughed.

oooo

When Paula pulled up to her house, Simon was inside the gate, leaning against the hood of his car, waiting for her.

"Hey," she said, locking her car with the push of a button.

"You weren't home," he said.

"I didn't expect to see you," she said. "You didn't call me."

"I wanted to surprise you, I guess," he said. She unlocked her door and let them both in, while the dogs rushed around their ankles. Paula crouched to pet each one before standing.

"Well, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to talk to you about Saturday," she said. "Lauren's party."

"Oh yes," he said rolling his eyes. "Lauren."

"You didn't have to say yes," she reminded him.

"I know. About how many are you expecting?" he asked. She got a couple water bottles from the refrigerator and handed him one. They sat down on her sofa.

"Between Idol staff, friends, and family? Fifty, probably," she said. "I'll cater so there won't be much set up or clean up. It will be fun! Sun and bathing suits and drinking."

"I have to go?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes, you have to go. We're hosting together," she said.

"Together," he repeated. "Well, okay."

"Simon," she said. She was about to ask him what he was doing there, what were his motives when she decided to just accept the fact that he had wanted to see her because she'd wanted to see him too. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Okay," he said.

She made lasagna and salad. She put him in charge of the bread and over saw him spreading butter and adding garlic. They opened a bottle of wine and ate in the backyard where the day had cooled off into a warm night. Afterward, leaving the dishes on the table, they sat at the edge of the pool, their feet dangling in the warm water. Occasionally bumping into one another.

Simon was talking about one of the auditions they saw earlier, someone he thought would do well in Hollywood but she was tired of talking shop.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, finally.

"Eating your food and drinking your wine," he said, picking up the almost empty glass. He drained the last of the red wine from it – his cheeks were rosy. Hers were too, probably.

"Just talk to me about this," she said. "What we did in the limo... it was fun and exciting but maybe a bad idea."

"Touching you is never a bad idea," he said seriously.

"I can't be another girl on your arm," she pushed on. "I'm to old to be your arm candy."

"I'm not asking you to be," he said.

"Oh," she said, kicking her leg out so the water rippled, out and out to the edge of the pool. When she lifted her leg out of the water, the air was cold against her skin.

"You always expect the worst of me," he whispered theatrically. "Could I not be in this for more noble reasons?"

"You? Noble?"

"I was with Terri for six years, darling. I know how to be faithful, despite what the tabloids said," he promised.

"Are you really trying to tell me that you'd be faithful to me?" she asked. He squirmed a little.

"I'm saying that if after our night of wild, passionate sex we still want to spend time with one another, that would be all right," he said. "And if it turns out all this is, is sexual tension that needs to be broken, then I will continue to adore you from afar."

"Wow, I think somewhere in all those words, you said a nice thing," she said.

"You know that I adore you, is what I'm saying. I've tried not to, but I do. So there."

He nodded, once, as if to emphasize his point. She put her head against his shoulder and he draped his arm over her.

"Simon, will you stay the night?" she asked.

His sigh of relief was audible.

"Yes," he said.


	10. In which the inevitable happens

They did the dishes before heading upstairs because it was the responsible adult thing to do. Paula wanted to feel like her man was spending the night, not like her secret lover had come over just for some nookie. Simon stood at the sink rinsing and Paula loaded everything into the dishwasher. When the counters were wiped and the wine glasses drying on a towel, they turned to look at each other.

Paula tried to figure out what to say. Asking him if he wanted to go upstairs sounded lame, and ordering him up to her boudoir made her feel like an old madam. Knowing what was about to happen made it different. Paula worried that her legs weren't smooth enough, that her underwear was too plane, that her sheets had been slept in.

Finally, tired of the silence, Simon picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Umph," Paula said, with a giggle. "What?"

"You were being awfully indecisive," Simon puffed, making his way up the leopard printed stairs.

"Put me down," she said, smacking his butt.

"Almost there," he said, turning the corner into her bedroom, careful to avoid knocking her head into anything. He dumped her unceremoniously on to the bed but she somehow managed to land looking sexy with legs akimbo and appropriately tousled hair.

"Take off your clothes," she said with more bravery than she felt. He grinned, pulling off his shirt. He loved when Paula took the reigns – the fact that naughty Paula was his favorite had never been a secret. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans to the floor. He was only in blue boxers now. "All of them," she clarified. Maybe it was a power thing, not wanting to be the first on naked, but he didn't seem to mind, pushing his shorts down to reveal his springy erection.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

"Come here," she said. He climbed onto the bed and started to unbutton her blouse. She let herself relax while he pushed each button through the hole, revealing her white bra. She sat up a little so he could remove the blouse. He unbuttoned her jeans and she lifted her hips so he could slide them down, revealing her pink panties and smooth, dark legs.

"Your panties don't match!" he exclaimed. "The fantasy is ruined."

"Shut up," she said. "I didn't plan this." The panties were light pink with dark pink tubing around the waist and leg holes. On her right hip were two little pink butterflies. Somehow, the sweet innocent print turned him on more than any black lace ever could. He kissed her mouth, softly.

"We can always stop," he said, performing his duty as a gentleman.

"I know," she said. He resumed kissing her, languidly and hotly until it was Paula impatiently kicking down her underwear and arching against him so he would unclasp her bra. Finally, with nothing between them, Paula whispered into his neck. "Are you ready?"

"Seven years ready, darling," he moaned, knowing her bite would leave a mark. Somehow he didn't mind being marked by Paula. Let the world know he was a kept man.

"Nightstand," she said. He rolled over and dug around in the drawer until he found a condom. Simon was fairly good about getting check-ups and knew he was clean. He also knew the odds of impregnating Paula at 45 were slim, but with his reputation, he couldn't blame her for wanting the protection. At least his fantasy of sliding into Paula with absolutely nothing between them would remain intact. She helped him roll the latex on and then he settled between her legs. She looked a little nervous, a little shy. He rubbed the head of his penis against her, bumping into her clit several times; her breath hitched and the fear in her eyes was clouded over by lust.

"You're beautiful," he said. She didn't respond – men were always telling Paula she was beautiful, she'd built a career on her stunning looks and so him whispering it to her now meant less than he wanted it to. "Look at me," he ordered, and her eyes snapped to his. "To me, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met," he said. "And I have met a lot of women."

"Thank you," she whispered. He still wasn't sure she got it, truly got it, but she raised her hips impatiently and he felt himself slide home. They took a moment to process that he was inside her, that they were having sex and that it was good and right. "Please," she whimpered after he had stayed too long still. He withdrew and entered again and she made a sound in the back of her throat that was possibly the most attractive noise he'd ever heard. It became his mission to make her make that noise as many times as he could.

He felt her ankles lock around his back, an invitation to move faster and harder. Though Simon had been with many women, Paula was by far the smallest and it had its benefits. She was tight around him, and with each thrust he learned that his stamina would not be helping him now.

"Paula," he said, warningly. She was clenching her muscles around him and it was making his vision swim. "Babe."

"Is that good?" she asked, teasingly though she was breathless and he could feel the sweat forming between their bodies. "Do you like when I do that?"

"Too much," he said, trying to slow his pace a bit. "Too good."

"No," she said and moved her hips faster, making sure he didn't take his time. "I want you too much." Hearing her say it broke his control and he started thrusting into her wildly, knocking the headboard into the wall and making her scream what sounded like a mixture of 'yes,' God,' and 'Simon.' His balls were beginning to tighten, he couldn't hold on. He felt her teeth sink into his neck, something he would learn to be a trademark of her orgasm, and then he let go, shooting into her and collapsing on her exhausted.

"Jesus," he said, trying to roll off her so she didn't get crushed, but she held him in place. As his blood began to slow in his veins, he felt his shoulder throb where her teeth had connected. "I didn't know you were a biter."

"Yeah," she said, her eyes closed. He could see that her eyeliner had smudged into the perfect look for someone who'd just been fucked. "Now you know."

"I'll get you a chew toy," he said. She pushed him off of her and took a deep breath.

"Makes the blow job interesting," she said. He gave her a horrified look and she smiled, then laughed. "Kidding."

"Are you?" he asked, disposing of the condom in the trash by her bed. He gathered her into his arms and she snuggled in.

"I really needed that," she said, sighing contentedly. Simon waggled his eyebrows leeringly. "What?" she asked. He poked her in the chest.

"You needed to get laid," he chuckled, like she'd let him in on a dirty secret.

"No," she corrected. "I needed to get laid by you."

"Aww," he said. "Well that's different."

oooo

The day before the party, Paula called Lauren early. Simon had gone home after nearly twenty-four hours in bed and Paula knew she needed to get out of the house.

"Hello?" said Lauren, knowing perfectly well it was Paula.

"Hey," said Paula. "What are you doing today?"

"Um, shopping with Marissa," Lauren said. "For something to wear tomorrow."

"Shopping!" Paula exclaimed. "That sounds fun." The truth was, Paula was bored with Simon gone and Lauren off for so many days. But she didn't want to invite herself.

"Well, I know you probably... I mean, you... do you want to come?" Lauren asked.

"I don't want to impose," Paula said.

"You won't! I mean, Marissa is kind of... and I'm not really..."

"We need help," said Marissa, having grabbed the phone. "Please come, Miss Abdul."

"Well okay," Paula said. "But I'm not your mom. You can call me Paula."

Since Paula had basically invited herself, she agreed to drive to Lauren's apartment. She'd never been there, but it was in Hollywood and Paula really wanted to see Lauren's home. It was a studio apartment that was easy to find. Since it was the middle of the morning, the place was deserted and so Paula knocked on the door, hoping that inside was air-conditioned. Lauren opened the door and ushered her in with a nervous smile.

"Hey," she said. "It isn't much, but..."

And it really wasn't much. There was the open kitchen, a big, open space and two doors, which probably led to the bathroom and closet. It was probably 500 square feet at most, but it was clean and had big windows that let in the sun. Lauren's double bed was in a sweet, white frame and made up in lavender. She had a white and yellow striped sofa in front of her television. She, like Paula, had a large movie collection that Paula wanted to look through later. There was a blonde wood table and four chairs, a couple of plants, and that was about it.

"It's sweet," Paula said.

"It's tiny," Marissa said.

"I don't have to share," Lauren said, like it was all that mattered. "Plus I'm always with you, so who cares."

"No, I like it," Paula insisted.

"Thank you," Lauren said. "So, we were trying to decide where to go. Because, I kind of wanted a bathing suit, and maybe a dress but I just...." She shrugged helplessly.

"Baby, you leave it to me," Paula said.

oooo

They walked into the first store and Lauren visibly balked, stepping back toward the door.

"Paula, you pay me very well, but there is no way I can afford any of this," she whispered.

"You did not think I would invite myself shopping and then not buy you an outfit for the party I'm forcing you to attend, did you?" Paula said, wagging her finger.

"You don't have to," Lauren said. "I mean, you really..."

"Paula Abdul wants to buy you a dress in Beverley Hills," Marissa interrupted. "Shut your trap."

"I'm beginning to think perhaps you two should have never met," Lauren mumbled. Paula pointed to a seat and waited for a saleswoman to approach her. She didn't have to wait long.

"Miss Abdul!" said a woman who's nametag read 'Marilyn.' "How can we help you today?"

"We need a dress for Lauren," Paula said. "And just for Lauren." Marilyn's face fell only fractionally but she held her smile and nodded enthusiastically. Before too long, Lauren was handed a pile of dresses and pushed into a dressing room. She tried on one and it was a unanimous no. But the second dress didn't come out. Paula and Marissa exchanged glances, wondering what was taking so long.

"Lauren?" Marissa called. "Are you okay?"

"Um," came her muffled reply. "I don't know."

"Do you need something?" Paula called.

"Maybe?" said Lauren.

"Maybe you should go in there," Paula whispered. Marissa shook her head.

"No you," Marissa whispered back. "I don't even wear dresses."

"You're her best friend!" Paula said.

"You're a professional!" Marissa whispered back. Paula sighed and stood up.

"Honey, can I come in?" Paula said.

"I guess," Lauren said. Paula pushed the curtain aside and stepped in, making sure everything was secure behind her. Lauren was sitting in her underwear on the bench, staring at the stack of dresses. Paula was surprised to see that underneath Lauren's blue jeans and t-shirts, she had a rockin' body.

"What's wrong?" Paula asked. Lauren looked on the verge of tears.

"I'm not very good at being a girl," Lauren said. "I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" asked Paula laughing. "You don't have to try to be a girl. You're gorgeous. You just need a little help." Paula started sifting through the dresses and found one she thought would look best. It was a short, pale green summer dress with thin straps and a v-neckline. It would look good against Lauren's fair skin and red hair. "This one."

"Yeah?" asked Lauren. She took it and slipped it on, standing in front of the mirror. "That's okay."

"Okay? It's amazing. It's the one," Paula assured her.

"Thank you," Lauren said sincerely. Lauren was so organized and put together that sometimes Paula forgot how young and green she was, how unsure of herself in so many ways. Paula was happy to help after all Lauren had done for her. Paula slipped out of the dressing room and gave Marissa a thumbs up.

With the dress paid for, they moved on.

"Bathing suit?" Marissa said.

"I don't know if I have that in me," Lauren said.

"Don't be such a baby," Paula said. "We've been to one store. For bathing suits, I say Bloomingdales."

"What?" Lauren exclaimed. "For swimwear?"

"You'll have to excuse her. Lauren's used to buying her whole wardrobe at Target," Marissa said.

"Hey, you leave Target out of this. Target did nothing to you!" Lauren said. Thankfully, Paula's phone started to ring and she answered as they headed to the car.

"Hey handsome," Paula said. Both Lauren and Marissa shut up, wanting to hear the conversation. "Shopping with Lauren and Marissa for the party tomorrow. Yes, I know. Well, baby, I told you the caterers were coming to set up today. I told you last night! Well, I'm not responsible for you not listening to me. Then go to my house and work. Simon, they have to set up the tables. We have sixty people coming over tomorrow. If you can't work, go to one of your other fourteen houses or to my house, or find a library." Paula unlocked the car and they all slipped in, the girls remaining quiet as mice.

"I do think your work is important. Simon, I beg of you. Just ignore it. They'll be gone in an hour. Do you want me to come over and deal with it? Then why are you calling me? You ass. Fine, bye." Paula hung up and suddenly realized she wasn't alone. "Um."

"Gee, who was that?" asked Lauren sarcastically.

"Simon and I are... we've been..." Paula said.

"Please don't explain," Lauren said. "We understand."

"We do?" Marissa said.

"Yeah, Lauren, can we have her sign the non-disclosure document?" Paula said, pulling into traffic.

"I'll have her sign it first thing Monday," Lauren promised.

"Sign what now?" Marissa asked.

"It just means you can't tell the press that you know Simon and Paula are sleeping together," Lauren said blandly.

"I thought everyone knew that," Marissa said. "I mean, Idol's been on the air for six years."

"We haven't been! I mean I've had boyfriends!" Paula sputtered. "Simon only broke up with Terri a few months ago!"

"Well, you were all flirty-flirty," Marissa said. "Sorry. Or, congratulations, I guess?"

"We're not dating," Paula said. "It is just sex."

"Right," said Lauren.

"Totally," Marissa agreed.

"Absolutely," said Paula.

The silence in the car was deafening.

oooo

Paula dropped off Lauren and Marissa in Hollywood and battled traffic to get to Malibu. Pulling in front of Simon's house was a relief. She could see that the catering vans were gone and when she knocked and let herself in, she saw the tables set up in side and out on the deck. She could hear Simon on the phone in the office and she went down the hall. He waved her in when he saw her and she went over and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He continued his conversation so she started kissing his neck and wiggling against his lap. He shot her a stern expression but she just took his earlobe into her mouth.

"You know, I have a call on the other line I need to take. We'll talk tomorrow." Simon hung up and tossed the phone aside, kissing Paula with reckless abandon. "You saucy minx," he said.

"I just wanted to apologize for earlier," she said, between kisses. "Tables look great."

"You know, we've christened your bed, but not mine," he said, moving his hands to her breasts.

"You sex maniac," she said, standing. "Let's go."

In bed that night, with Simon pressed up behind her, she was warm but not quite content.

"I'm going to ask you something that's probably going to piss you off," Paula said, rolling over.

"My favorite way to start a conversation," Simon murmured. "Go ahead."

"Are you sleeping with anyone else?" she asked. He tensed behind her and she prepared herself for the worst.

"No," he said. "Are you?"

"Nope," she said. "I was just wondering."

"Do you want exclusivity?" he asked.

"I didn't mean it that way," she promised.

"Because, while monogamy has never been my strong suit, when I'm with you, I don't want anyone else," he said. "Because you're so sexy, and funny, and beautiful." He kissed her and she kissed back. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"It'll do," she said.


	11. In which we meet The Carol

The caterers were moving around downstairs. It was early, only 10:30, and the party wasn't due to start until noon. The caterers had strict instructions to not go upstairs, under any circumstances. Which was good, actually, since Simon had Paula up against the wall in the hallway and was pushing up her skirt and untying the sides of her bikini bottoms. They were just out of sight of anyone walking by the foot of the staircase but not out of sound. The bottoms fell to the hardwood floor and Paula's hands were shaking as she undid Simon's pants.

Now that they had started, they couldn't quite seem to stop.

Paula's hair was still damp from the shower and her head slipped a little on the new, semi-gloss of the hallway as Simon pushed into her. He pressed his mouth against hers in a reminder to stay quiet but she still managed to let a little squeak escape. With each thrust, her shoulder blades pushed painfully into the wall and the angle wasn't quite right. Simon lifted her easily so she could wrap her legs around his waist and things seemed to fit together a little better.

Simon slipped his tongue into her mouth. She could tell that, while this wasn't the best sex they'd had, he was getting off on the position and the location. Truthfully, she was too. One of Simon's hands braced him on the wall next to her head. He started pumping harder and his face was bright red – she knew he was close. She wanted to scream, she really did. She turned her head and sunk her teeth into his wrist, which made him lose control. He groaned quietly and his hips stilled. His weight pinned her to the wall and she rested her head against him, trying not to suffocate. It was too much, sometimes, with this man. The pleasure was so intense that she always feared she was going to black out.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Ungh," she said, which was more than she thought she could manage, at the moment. He kissed her neck and allowed her to slide down back onto her own two unstable feet.

"You're very bad," he said.

"You," she managed. "Bad influence."

"You're just too tempting," he said, and bent over to pick up her black bikini bottoms. They dangled from one finger. "These are yours, love."

"Mine... bikini... wall," she said.

"That wasn't even a sentence," he chuckled, and shook his head. "Come on." He helped her back into the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the tub. He dampened a corner of the hand towel and dabbed her face. She took it and cleaned herself up between her legs.

"We didn't even use a condom," she said. "Whoops."

"Oh," he said. "Well."

"It should be fine," she said. "Not exactly fertile Mertle."

"Okay," he said. He hurried to change the subject. "Now that we have that out of the way, should I do something to set up?"

"Um," she said, standing carefully to put her bottoms back on. She was stalling, trying to think since her brain was still only running at three-quarters speed. "I guess make sure we have enough alcohol to appease the wave of twenty-somethings that are coming."

"I can't believe I let you invite so many non-famous people to my house," he said, opening the door to let them out. They made their way back to the bedroom where they were really alone, not prone to eavesdroppers.

"It's for Lauren!"

"Whom, may I remind you for the billionth time, I don't actually get along with," he said.

"I don't see why," Paula muttered, going to the mirror on the wall. The bathroom was too small to accommodate her expansive morning routine, so she'd plugged in here instead. She brushed out her hair again, now that it was messy from Simon's fingers. "She's amazing."

"She's pushy."

"You're pushy," Paula said. "You don't even try to like her."

"I do!" he exclaimed, as if appalled at the very thought. "She doesn't like me!"

"This is a stupid fight," Paula said. "I want you to be nice to her today."

"Fine," he said. "Her and all her little friends."

"She's totally freaked out about her family coming and I didn't even tell her that Wendy and my parents are coming," Paula said.

"Your parents are coming?" Simon asked softly.

"I gave you the guest list," Paula reminded him.

"I know," he said. He hadn't bothered to read it. He thought he'd manage to get out of it somehow. "What else is bothering you?" He could tell it was something.

"I'm all freaked out about going down to the beach and seeing... I can't even believe this is the house you bought," she admitted. She'd seen a couple cars outside Emilio's house, which meant that he and his fiancée and probably the kids (who were not children anymore, she'd imagine) were there for the weekend.

"Ah," he said, wrapping his arms around her from behind. "No worries."

"And we haven't even talked about the fact that you're leaving," she whispered. They hadn't brought it up, but they both were well aware that he had a flight to catch in the morning and would be gone until January when press began for American Idol season seven. It wasn't that Paula wanted him to stay – he had work to do in England, but she knew she would miss him.

"I know," he said again. "It will be far more difficult than I anticipated but the time will go fast."

"Will it?" she asked.

"Sure. You'll be in the studio with Randy this month and next. November, you'll spend with your family. December, you'll fly to England to spend Christmas with me, and then in January I'll be back," he said, confidently.

"Christmas with you?" she asked, surprised. "In England?"

"You've been to England before, pet," he said.

"I know, but..."

"You can even bring your insipid assistant," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'll think about it," she promised. "I have to do my hair."

"Important things first, got it," he said. The blow dryer was on before he even left the room.

oooo

Once Lauren's friends got over the fact that their friend worked for Paula Abdul, and they were at a party at a Malibu beach house owned by Simon Cowell, the party was fun. Lauren laughed with a drink in her hand, but her eyes were always on the door, waiting for her family. Paula finally shooed them off to the beach and watched the door too, wanting to be as pleasant as possible when she met Carol. Or, 'The Carol,' as Marissa called her. Paula didn't think she could be that bad. She raised a girl like Lauren, right?

Simon stayed across the room, watching Paula over the rim of his glass, talking with Randy and some other Idol people. They orbited near each other but never actually came in contact. Paula was worried she wouldn't be able to keep her hands of his butt so she just stayed away. She was watching him and getting a little lost in her daydream about Christmas in London when suddenly he started gesturing to the door.

"Huh?" she asked, and he pointed behind her, trying to stay subtle even though Randy rolling his eyes and Erika was giggling behind her hand. Paula turned around to see two people standing in the entryway. They looked absolutely like they didn't belong – they were over dressed for the location and temperature. The woman was in black slacks and a pink oxford shirt, complete with pearls and loafers. The man was in khakis and a sports coat and looked like he was about to sweat his way into unconsciousness. They both stood straight and glanced at the scene around them in disapproval. Paula steeled herself.

"Hello!" she said, walking over. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Brenninger!" They turned their attention to her but their small frowns didn't dissipate. "I'm Paula. Welcome."

"I'm Henry. This is my wife Carol," Mr. Brenninger said.

"We know who you are," The Carol added, a nickname Paula suddenly could understand clearly. Paula glanced over at Simon who was grinning, enjoying the crash and burn that was about to come.

"Of course," said Paula. "Well come on in. Can I get you something to drink?"

"We're not thirsty," said The Carol, even though Mr. Brenninger looked like he'd kick a puppy to get a glass of ice water. "Where is our daughter?"

"I'm pretty sure she's down on the beach," Paula said, endeavoring to keep her cheerful tone. "I'll take you there."

"Good," The Carol said. Paula mouthed 'help!' to Simon as they passed but he just shrugged and cupped his ear like he didn't understand. He would pay later.

"How was your drive?" Paula asked.

"The traffic was terrible," Mr. Brenninger said.

"Oh," said Paula. "Well, you know L.A."

"My daughter has informed us that she has been working for you for some time," The Carol said, as they approached the steps down to the said.

"Lauren is amazing. She does such wonderful work – she's the best assistant I've ever hand," Paula gushed.

"Lauren could be so much more than an assistant," Mr. Brenninger snapped. Paula swallowed. The Carol looked down and sniffed.

"I don't walk on sand," she said.

"Why don't I go get Lauren and we'll meet you inside," Paula said, through her grinding smile.

"That would be best, I suppose," The Carol said. Paula took off down the beach toward the group of girls who were playing in the surf. She could spot Lauren from afar, her red hair shining in the sun. She was laughing with a group of friends Paula had only superficially met and when she approached, they all hushed to excited whispers. Lauren rolled her eyes.

"What's up?" she said, jogging up to meet Paula. They'd found her a white, eyelet bikini that made her look even paler, but sweet. She was already turning red in the sun. "Are you okay?"

Paula crossed her arms.

"Your parents are here," Paula said. Behind them, the girls all gasped and Lauren shut her eyes briefly.

"I told you. I told you!" Lauren said. "They're so... I mean... ugh."

"They're awfully proper," Paula agreed.

"I mean, I love them but. What did they say to you?" Lauren said, pulling her dress from the towel and sliding it on.

"I don't think they were impressed," Paula said. Lauren touched her hand. "I understand why you hide things."

"It's me they're mad at. They'll stay for half an hour, give me a birthday card with a check, and go," Lauren promised and jogged up toward the steps. Paula was left behind with the group of girls watching her. She was in her black bikini with a denim skirt and a black tank top over it. It was a little young for her to wear but it was a party and she didn't care.

"You can say it," Paula said, turning to the one girl in the group who seemed about to burst.

"I'm a huge fan!" she squealed.

oooo

In the house, Lauren was in a corner with her parents, nodding gravely and everyone stayed away. Marissa was standing with Simon and Ryan at the bar, drinking heavily, it seemed. Paula, who hadn't planned on drinking, went to get a beer. Marissa handed it to her without a word. She took a drink and Simon smirked. She wanted to take his hand but didn't.

"Kind of like my parents," Ryan said. "I can sympathize."

"This is what you get for being nosy," Simon said. "Lauren looks close to tears."

"Shut up," Paula said. But she couldn't watch it either. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go hug my mother."

Lorraine and Harry Abdul were no longer married and played the same stay on the other side of the room game that she and Simon played, but for different reasons. Lorraine was talking to Wendy, looking out one of the many windows at the water. She opened her arms when she saw Paula coming and Paula hugged her.

"How are you, my little star?" she asked.

"Fine," Paula said, winking at Wendy. She hated when their parents called Paula a star.

"I was just telling mom you've been spending an awful lot of time with Simon," Wendy said, a little snidely. Paula narrowed her eyes at her sister.

"We're colleagues," Paula said. "And friends."

"Good friends," Wendy drawled.

"Shut up," Paula snapped. "Don't listen to her, mom."

"I know you'll tell me what you need to tell me in time," her mother said. "Even though he has been staring at you all day."

"I don't think so," Paula said, knowing that he had. "And anyway, he's going back to the motherland tomorrow until the new year."

"And you're okay with this?" Wendy asked.

"I'm fine," Paula said, absently. "It's fine."

oooo

The party was winding down. Lauren had been right about her parents staying a short amount of time and leaving in the same huff they'd arrived in.

"I'll adopt you," Paula had said, only partially joking. "You're my family now."

The party could have gone on all night but Simon had started kicking the younger kids out around 8:00 and the Idol people were all long gone. Paula saw off her family and helped the caterers pack up and leave. Then, finally, the house was empty and they were alone. Paula went around closing all the windows against the chilly night air. Even with the windows closed, though, she could hear the roar of the ocean. She looked around. The caterers had done a halfway decent job cleaning but there were still empty cans and bottles everywhere, and all the trashcans needed to be emptied but she couldn't face the mess right now. She would clean in the morning, after Simon was already gone.

Simon was on the phone with his assistant in London, confirming travel plans when she wandered into the office. She'd put on one of his sweaters from the closet and it hung off her. He smiled a little when he saw her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Simon said into the phone. He hung up and Paula tried not to pout. She wanted to be sad that it would be months until Simon would ravish her again, but she knew the sadness ran deeper than that. She would miss him. She already missed him and he wasn't even gone. "Shall we go to bed?"

"It isn't even nine yet," she said. "I was thinking of going home. Letting you get some sleep before your flight."

"I will have none of that," he said. "You will stay and shag me all night long."

"Will I?" she said. "Is that what you think?"

"It is," he said.

"You'd be right then," she smiled. "Let's go to bed."

But in bed, something was different. It wasn't the heat of the limo ride, the passion of their first time, or the lust of the hallway. Simon moved slowly on top of her, keeping her body tight against his. Every time she closed her eyes, he would whisper, "Look at me," and she would find his gaze unwavering and intense. He was trying to remember everything just like she was. When they finally agreed to drift into sleep, he curled himself around her body and kissed her shoulder again and again.

"Will you miss me?" she asked, even though she hadn't wanted to say the words.

"Desperately," he murmured.

"Don't charm me," she warned.

"I miss you already," he said. "Go to sleep."

"You go to sleep," she said, closing her eyes.

"I will," he promised, but he didn't. Instead he stayed up almost the whole night, watching her sleep, watching the predictable rise and fall of her chest, watching the light change over her features. "Paula," he whispered to her, knowing it was too soft to wake her. "Paula," he whispered, her name drawn out, slow and sweet like a song.

oooo

Simon drove to the airport in his car, Paula sitting stoic beside him. There wasn't much to say. They were both exhausted, both angry knowing that his departure was nearly there. He parked the car and they walked to the terminal entrance. She couldn't go very far into the airport with him, and with so many people around, their goodbye had to be curt and unadorned. Already he had kissed her long and slow, had kissed her goodbye.

He would board his plane and she would drive his car back to his house and climb into his bed and cry into his pillow. But she would not cry here.

"Come for Christmas," he said, holding his bag. He didn't bother with much luggage other than his computer and a few pieces of clothing. Everything he had in Los Angeles, he had in London.

"Okay," she said. "Call me when you get in."

"I will," he promised. They stood too long, putting off goodbye.

"Have a nice flight," she said. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, lingering a little too long.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll...I will miss you."

"Don't," she said. She closed her eyes. "I have to go now." He let her turn and walk away. He waited until she was too far to call after before he went into the terminal to start the check in process. He'd left Terri in London, he'd left her in America a hundred times and never did he feel this way.

At the party, Randy had asked him straight out what was up with Paula.

"We're just shagging," he'd said. "That's it."

"I don't know if I believe that," Randy had said.

"You know me," Simon had replied by way of explanation and Randy had let it drop but now Simon felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. The instinct to walk out of the airport was almost too hard to resist. But he had work to do in England, and he would go.

In the car, Paula let her forehead rest against the steering wheel. If she left now, she could be back to Malibu in an hour with traffic. If she sat here and let herself cry, she'd be mired in rush hour for the morning. She started the car and shifted into reverse, careful to back out gently. Simon would kill her if she hurt his car – she was actually kind of shocked he was letting her drive one. And live in his house all summer. And sleep in his bed, and kiss him in the mornings and touch him at night.

"Get a grip," she told herself, leaving the terminal and merging back onto the freeway. It was early, not even nine o'clock yet but Paula needed to talk to someone. She could call her mother or Wendy but didn't have the heart to listen to a chorus of 'I told you so's' and she could call any one of her girlfriends but they were all happily married. So she called Lauren, only slightly worried that her closest friend was turning out to be a twenty-five year old employee.

"Hello?" Lauren answered. It was odd for Paula to call her so early on her day off.

"Hi," Paula said, her voice already sounding watery.

"What's wrong?" Lauren asked. "What's the matter? Where are you?"

"I just dropped Simon off at the airport," she sniffed. "I thought I would take it better."

"Aww," Lauren said. "I know. I'll come over."

"I know you probably have plans but would you? Please?" Paula said, tears now openly flowing.

"Of course," Lauren said. "And I'll bring you coffee with real caffeine. Okay?"

"Okay," Paula said, the word broken by a sob. "I'm going back to the Malibu house."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Lauren promised. "I know it's hard. I know."

Paula hung up, wiping her eyes with one hand, trying not to drive off the road. She was used to Simon Cowell reducing her to tears, but not like this. Not like this.


	12. In which the circus leaves town

Paula did the only thing she could do, the thing she'd been doing her whole life. She dove into work. She laid down the track for her new song and allowed Jeff, her publicist, to arrange for a Superbowl debut several months away. She locked herself in her dance studio and played the song over and over again until Lauren thought she'd kill someone if she had to hear it one more time.

Paula spent days in meetings with the jewelry designers and they did another QVC appearance, which immediately sold everything out.

She did a charity dinner for the eating disorder board that she sat on.

She started an intense workout routine with a personal trainer so she would look her best when they started shooting the video.

And when Paula was busy, Lauren was busy. Staying on top of her schedule, getting her to things on time and ready became the ultimate challenge.

"Be careful," Lauren said again and again. "I refuse to let you work more hours than there are in the day." Paula laughed it off but the first time she mentioned 'Paula time,' Lauren threw in the towel. "That's it," she said. "You're taking the weekend off."

"I don't have time for that," Paula said.

"I'll make time, that's my job," Lauren said. "It's also my job to make sure you don't crash and burn."

"I'm fine," Paula said.

"I know it's hard," Lauren said. "But what you're doing isn't working. I'm clearing your schedule. The end."

Paula realized she was kind of tired and gave in. Besides, she could work a little from home.

In the morning, she woke alone in her house. Things were quiet for the first time in days. She felt suddenly, very alone. Not just alone, but lonely. She reached for her phone to call Simon. It was early afternoon there and he picked up on the third ring.

"Cowell," he said, briskly. He sounded irritated. She regretted calling.

"It's me," she said. "Are you busy?"

"Hey," he said, his voice softening. "How are you?" She talked to Simon two or three times a day. Any more seemed to make the separation worse and any less was agony.

"Okay," she said. "Lauren has me under house arrest."

"Good," said Simon. "You've been working too hard."

"I'm sorry," she said, settling onto her sofa, feeling a little better just to hear his voice. "Did you just agree with Lauren?"

"We have an understanding," Simon said.

"You've been talking to her behind my back!"

"Paula, darling. I just want to make sure you're taken care of while I'm gone," he said.

"I don't need you to take care of me," Paula said bristling. On the other side, Simon began to chuckle. "What?" she demanded.

"I miss fighting with you," he said.

"You're crazy," she said, but smiled.

"I am busy," he said. "But call me in a few days. I think I'll have some good news."

"Tell me now," she begged.

"And ruin the surprise?" he tsked. "Not a chance. Bye love."

"Bye," she said. She had no idea what his good news could be, but deciding she was tired of her own house, she got dressed, piled the dogs into Simon's car (she'd never tell) and headed for Malibu. She hadn't been spending as much time here as she thought she would at Simon's house due to her schedule, but now she was happy to pull into the driveway, unlock the door, and usher her dogs inside to go sniff and hopefully not tinkle on anything important. She threw down a couple of wee pads just in case.

What to do to pass the time? When she was younger, mired in voice lessons trying to bring her singing ability up to her dancing ability, she used to walk around the house looking for the spot with the best acoustics. She wandered all over the house singing, "Hey baby, you got to remember..." every few steps. Finally, she decided that by the stairs under the vaulted ceilings gave off the best sound and started humming, a few bars from her new song, a few bars from Spinning Around, a few bars from Kelly's Because of You. Her voice, while never her strongest asset, had held up well.

She was just about to start singing, loudly, when the doorbell rang. The dogs began to bark and swarm around her feet and she wondered whom it could be and if she should answer Simon's door when he wasn't even in the country. But, curiosity won out, as usual, and she opened the door.

"Hi, I'm your..."

"Oh my God," Paula said, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Neighbor," he finished. "Hi Paula."

"Hi Emilio," she said.

"Um," he scratched his head. "I knew I had a new neighbor, but I thought it was a man."

"It is!" she said. "This isn't my house."

"Okay," he said.

"It's Simon's. Cowell. From the show? Have you seen the show?" she asked.

"No, I live under a rock, actually so..." he chuckled. "You look really good."

"Long time, no see, huh?" She smiled nervously. "Oh, come in!" She stepped aside and he walked in.

"I actually just came by because I have some of the family over and I think in the last 20 minutes we've kicked about 13 balls over your fence," he said.

"I see," she said. "Well, the back is out this way." They walked tentatively to the slider door to the side of the house that wasn't to the front or down to the beach. "Why weren't you playing down by the water?"

"Paparazzi," he said. "Paloma is still really wary of them."

"The kids are over?" she asked. "How are they?"

"Good!" he said. "They still... you know, get the gifts you send them every year for Christmas and stuff. I think they appreciate it."

"Good," she said. The found the trove of balls and she helped them start tossing them back over the fence. "Well, if I spot any more, I'll definitely toss them back," she promised. She could hear voices and smell the barbecue cooking. Why hadn't she noticed the sounds of life? She felt backed into a corner. He almost didn't look the same; he was older, heavier, but he was still her first husband. She suddenly wished Simon were there for her to hang off of.

"Thanks," he said. "So you and Simon Cowell, huh?"

"What? No! Well, not really," she said. "Kind of. I don't know."

"He's not really your type," Emilio said in a kind of teasing voice.

"Nope," she said.

"Hey," he said. "You could come over. We're eating soon. You could see Paloma and Taylor. Mom and Dad are over."

"Wow, that would be weird," she said. "I mean, I knew that was your house but I just never thought that I would really see you."

"I understand," he said. "But I don't think you've met Sonja and I think she'd really want to meet you. Please? Come over?"

"Gosh," she said. "Um."

"Please?" he begged.

"Okay," she said. "Sure. Just let me put some shoes on and make sure the dogs are okay."

They went into the house and he waited by the door while she rushed upstairs to powder her face and find some sandals. She had a growing collection of shoes and clothes at the house, all kept in the yellow room even though she tended to sleep in Simon's bed.

Downstairs, he smiled.

"Let's go," he said. She locked the door behind her and they went out the gate and walked street side toward his house.

"What's the occasion?" she asked.

"None," he said. "Just playing."

"I saw Bobby," she said. "I loved it."

"I got your card," he said. "Thank you. It was hard."

"I bet," she said. She paused as he keyed open his gate and she hesitated at stepping through. "I really don't know about this, Em."

"Don't worry," he said. "You always used to worry too much."

"One of us had to," she said, only partly joking. The truth was, they'd been apart too much to make anything work. She'd been touring, he'd been filming and in the end, she just didn't see it getting any better. She couldn't imagine her life if they'd stayed together. She couldn't imagine owning this house, maybe having a child with him. A life with Emilio was a life without Simon, after all.

"Come on in," he said, stepping aside. This house was more open space than Simon's, thought about the same size. From the kitchen, Paula could see Emilio's father turn and look at her. He stared for a moment before finding his manners and renewing his smile.

"Well this is a surprise!" he said, coming over to hug her. "Hi doll."

"Hi Martin," she said, returning his hug.

"I found her next door," Emilio supplied. "She returned my balls."

Paula stared at him and Martin started to laugh.

"Several years ago, I'd imagine," Martin said. "Come on in. You'll want to see the kids, yes?"

"Sure!" she said and left Emilio to stand in the kitchen, blushing.

oooo

It was nearly ten o'clock when Paula made her way back to Simon's house. It has been a good day. Emilio's fiancée had been kind, much kinder than Paula might have been were the situation reversed. It had been great to see the kids, who were no longer kids. She'd been their stepmother once, albeit briefly, and they had been happy to see her.

She'd promised to bring Simon over for dinner when he was back and everyone very pointedly did not ask her about Simon or their relationship or why she'd been in his house while he was gone but she knew the moment she closed the door behind her, they were all atwitter with questions and speculation. Such was her life.

She fell asleep in Simon's bed, her face pressed into his pillow. She wondered how long she could go without changing the sheets.

oooo

Simon called three days later, when Paula was on the elliptical machine. She was back at her house, finally, and Lauren was sitting on the weight machine eating a sandwich while Paula worked out.

"I know this makes me like, a terrible, fat person, but whatever," Lauren had said, making sure her cheese didn't slip out the bottom of her sandwich.

"I'll think of it as motivation," Paula promised, huffing. She didn't eat meat anyway. Now, if Lauren had been sitting there eating a dozen Krispy Kremes, she might have had a problem. Her phone rang, and so Lauren turned down the music and she answered knowing it was Simon.

"Abdul," she said, mocking him slightly.

"Hello my dirty girl," he said.

"Hi," she said, excitedly. "And don't call me that."

"You sound a little out of breath," he said. "Are you shagging someone right now?"

"Yep," she said. "I got so lonely, but then Lauren offered to help me out, and well, one thing led to another."

"Oh lord," he said. "Don't tease me."

"I'm working out," she said.

"Still hot," he reasoned. "Are you ready for your surprise?"

"Yep," she said.

"I have to fly to New York this weekend," he said. "I'll be in the states."

"But Simon," she whined. "I'm shooting the video with Randy this weekend! I can't leave L.A."

"Pish," he said. "Just film it in New York instead."

"With three days notice? We'll have to hire a new production crew, I'll have to pay for all my dancers to fly out there, we'll have to rent studio space and ship the set. Not to mention convincing Randy to change the location. Oh my God," she moaned. "I don't know."

"I'll convince Randy," Simon said. "I'll pay for your dancers. I'll pay for everything. I'll even be in your video, but I have got to shag that tight little body this weekend," he said. "You say you have such a fabulous assistant. She needs a good challenge."

"Simon..."

"You're going to say yes," he said, confidently.

"Let me make some calls," she said. "I'll call you back." Lauren looked up, surprised to see Paula climbing off the machine already.

"What?"

"You're going to hate me," Paula said.

"What do you need?" asked Lauren looking longingly at the sandwich she knew she wouldn't be finishing today.

"I need to move my entire video shoot to New York City by this weekend," she said.

"Are you serious?" Lauren asked.

"I need studio space, I need the dancers booked on a flight, I need an okay from the record company, and I need you to make it all happen," Paula said. Lauren stared at her. "Go!"

Lauren grabbed her phone and ran from the room.

Four hours later, Lauren was sitting on the floor, still on her phone. She'd found an outlet to plug her phone charger in and was hunched over her ubiquitous notepad, taking notes and making demands. Paula had already talked to Simon. Randy had agreed, reluctantly, and had, apparently, gone on a twenty-minute diatribe about Simon screwing up everyone's life all the time so he could get laid. Lauren closed her phone and looked up.

"Okay, since CMG has offices in New York, we can use their warehouse to shoot in. I booked you first class and your dancers coach, because, hey, they're not stars. I called Jeff and Daniel – Jeff is going to be in charge of making sure your wardrobe and set supplies arrive on time. He's going to meet us there," Lauren said.

"And Daniel?" Paula asked.

"He can't come," Lauren said. "But he's going to arrange for the best of New York to style you for the shoot, and he said not to worry."

"But..." Paula started to wine.

"I'm sorry. You know how he hates short notice," Lauren said, cutting off any Diva tantrums at the quick. "Anyway, some of the production staff CMG hired are willing to fly to New York this weekend, but some aren't, so I have to go negotiate east coast re-hires in a conference call with Jeff and your contact at CMG in five minutes."

"Okay," Paula said. Lauren sat back down and started scribbling in her notebook. Paula made a mental note to give her a giant raise.

oooo

On the plane, Paula couldn't quite believe that they'd pulled any of it together. Lauren was on her flight, but had booked herself coach and was off behind the curtain. Paula had told her she was worth the extra expense, but suspected Lauren was kind of sick of her and just wanted to crash on the flight while she had the time.

All of this to see Simon. He had business during the day and her shoot would take hours. They would get one, maybe two nights together, but late nights where they would be exhausted. And still, all of this.

She tried to sleep but she couldn't. She had sleeping pills but was wary of taking anything unnecessary. The press had been nearly kind, almost, and the last thing she needed was to appear groggy anywhere near a camera. The flight seemed to be taking forever but soon enough she felt the dip in her stomach that signified the start of the descent. She listened halfheartedly to the captain announcing their destination and soon wheels hit pavement.

Lauren met her at baggage claim and hurried her out of the airplane into the waiting limo. Lauren had things timed exactly. Paula needed to be back in L.A. on Monday morning for another obligation and Paula knew that every moment was scheduled.

"I'm doing all of this to see Simon," Paula had whispered, when Lauren had shown her the final schedule.

"I gave you two hours Sunday morning, and six hours for sleep each night," Lauren said. "This is his great surprise, not mine."

In the limo, Lauren popped the top of her Red Bull and directed the driver to the studio. She was starting her shoot today and hopefully it would wrap in one day.

"I hope I can dance after that flight," Paula said, using the expansive back seat to try to stretch and loosen her muscles.

"Oh, you'll dance," Lauren said, warningly. "You'll dance like there's no goddamn tomorrow, and you'll like it." Lauren got a little testy under pressure, a little mean.

"That's the plan," Paula said brightly. Lauren sipped at her energy drink and asked the driver if he could go any faster.

At the studio, Paula got whirled away to hair and make-up, then to wardrobe and straight into the first shot of the day. She'd rehearsed endlessly with her dancers but it still took shot after shot to get it right. By the time they thought about calling it a night, her body was screaming in pain.

"I think we need another day," Lauren told the director, who nodded and soon called it a day. Still, Paula had to be back by six am the next day. Lauren helped her into her street clothes and into the limo. She directed them to the hotel. Paula sat in her seat, trying not to move. Every bump in the road shot pain up her spine.

"Ow," she moaned.

"You need to take something," Lauren said, digging around in her big bag for Paula's prescription.

"No," she said. "It'll just knock me out."

"Good," said Lauren. "You're exhausted."

"I didn't upset the whole operation to go to sleep right now," Paula said. "I'll be fine. I've been off the meds for a while you know."

"You haven't had a day like that in a while," Lauren argued. "You can't dance tomorrow if you're in utter agony."

"Enough," Paula said, wincing. "I now know your opinion." Lauren shut her mouth, but didn't look thrilled. At the hotel, Lauren checked them in and Paula texted Simon who texted back with his room number immediately.

"I'll walk you there," Lauren said, knowing she'd have Paula's suite all to herself tonight.

"I'm fine," Paula said, but when Lauren hooked their arms, Paula let most of her weight lean against her as they limped out of the elevator and down the hall. Lauren knocked on the door, which opened almost instantly. Simon was there and Paula felt a wave of relief. This was all worth it.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"She's hurting," Lauren said, thrusting a bottle of pills into his hands. "Please make her take one." Lauren said this as if Paula was Simon's problem now. "Call if you need anything. Goodnight."

Simon pulled Paula into his room and closed the door. She smiled wearily up at him.

"Hey cutie," she said. "You're here."

"I'm here," he said, helping her to the bed. "How is the back?"

"So very, very painful," she said. "You owe me."

"I do," he said, lying down next to her. He pulled her close and pressed his face into her neck. He'd had elaborate plans of tearing off her clothes and having his way with her, but seeing her in pain dashed them. Instead, he just held her, which, surprisingly, turned out to be just as good.


	13. In which Paula travels across the world for a man she isn't dating

Simon managed to get half a pain pill down her, which took the edge off. It was strong enough to make her eyes a little glassy and make her more open than she might be otherwise. Simon was just happy to see her lying in a big bed in the same room as him. He pushed up her blouse to reveal her flat tummy and kissed it softly. It tickled a little and she made a noise that was half a giggle and half appreciative.

"I wish you didn't have to leave," she sighed. "Can't you stay?"

"We're filming X-Factor," he said. "You know that."

"I know," she said. "And you like London better."

He bit at her skin a little but didn't disagree.

"And you miss your mom?" she asked.

"Yes," he revealed. "That is true." Paula had met Julie Cowell in the past, but always superficially. There had been something about her that had been a little too wise and perceptive and Paula had felt that had she spent more time with her, she would have ended up revealing more than she wanted to. "I told her you were coming for the holidays."

"You did?" asked Paula, tugging on his hair so he would leave her stomach alone. He crawled up so they were face to face. He pulled the comforter over them and she snuggled against him, reveling in the solid warmth of a body, his body, next to her. "What did she say?"

"She was surprised," he said. "But will welcome you with open arms."

"Yikes," Paula said. "I don't mind coming but I don't want to intrude on your family time."

"You aren't an intrusion," he promised. Beneath the covers, he started tugging at her pants, working them down her legs. "But these clothes definitely are." She let him unwrap her like a present. He shimmied out of his own clothing and tucked the covers around them so they were warm, and skin-to-skin. She reached up and turned out the lamp so they were in relative darkness. She felt him settle in for the night, finding the most comfortable spot and listened to him fall into a rhythmic breathing pattern.

"Simon," she said.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Touch me," she begged.

"Are you sure?" he asked, carefully, knowing that her pain was probably real.

"I'm sure," she said.

So he did.

oooo

Paula was quiet on the flight back to Los Angeles. Lauren sat beside her this time, her notebook closed in her lap, her phone off, her attention completely on Paula.

"You can talk to me," Lauren reminded her. "I'm legally bound to keep your secrets."

"I don't have any secrets," Paula said absently. Lauren rolled her eyes.

"Everyone has secrets," Lauren says. "And yours is Simon Cowell." Paula glanced at her sideways.

"It's no ones business if we're sleeping together," Paula said.

"Oh no," Lauren said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Your secret isn't that you're doing it. Your secret is that you love him." Paula crossed her arms over her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"That's ridiculous," Paula said.

"I know," Lauren agreed. "But that doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Even if I did, HYPOTHETICALLY, have irrational feelings toward him," Paula said. "It isn't like he feels the same way."

"What do we know about Simon Cowell?" Lauren said, extending her fingers on her left hand so she had something to tick off as she counted. "One, he's a confirmed bachelor. Two, he has trouble with monogamy. Three, he has the proverbial bedside manner of a piranha. Four, he dates tall, leggy, young woman so he can have beautiful arm candy."

"Where are you going with this?" Paula asked. Lauren held up her thumb, the only finger remaining upright.

"Five, he just moved mountains to see you for a weekend," she said. "One of these things is not like the other."

"Maybe he just wanted to get laid," Paula said, plucking at invisible fuzz on her fleece pants.

"Because there are no beautiful women in New York City," Lauren said, sarcastically. "He wanted to see you Paula! That's Simon's big, deep, dark, daunting secret! Can't you see it? He loves you too!"

"Yeah right," Paula said. "Simon loves his mom and his cars and that's it." Lauren let her head fall against the tray table and banged her forehead a few times. She muttered something that sounded a lot like "Stupid celebrities" and "New job" but Paula dismissed it. "Lauren, the stupid romantic choices I make are neither here nor there in regards to your job."

"Oh," Lauren said wistfully, "If only that were true."

oooo

December came both too slowly and too quickly for Paula's taste. She was going to London for two weeks, leaving on the 19th and returning on the 2nd. They would spend Christmas together and New Years and she would return to the states to prepare for her Superbowl performance. Then, Idol started and they would move quickly into Hollywood week and back into their old, comfortable routine of ferreting out a new superstar.

Lauren, however, was not accompanying Paula to England. Paula had offered to pay her way but Lauren had refused.

"I have my own fun filled family gatherings to attend," she said. "And besides, you two will want to be... alone," she said, drawing out the word. "And I would be the definition of a third wheel. You don't have much press scheduled, nothing you can't handle, and Simon told me you can use his assistant as your whipping boy if need be."

"It still freaks me out that you two talk to each other," Paula muttered.

"It's strictly business, I assure you," Lauren said. "Neither of us enjoy it, if that's what you're worried about."

When the time came, Lauren drove her to the airport and put her on the plane.

"Simon will pick you up at Heathrow," Lauren promised. "It's a direct flight. You shouldn't have any problems."

Paula hugged her assistant.

"See you in a couple weeks," Paula said. When she was gone, Lauren sighed, happily beginning her first real vacation from Paula Abdul in over a year.

oooo

Simon waited in the terminal for her and was there the moment she stepped off the plane. And though it was possibly not in their best interest, she ran up to him and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and hugging him tightly.

"Hi Baby," she squealed, the excitement of seeing him after so long overwhelming her.

"Hi," he said laughing. "Happy to see me?" He let her slide down back onto her own two feet. There were a few flashes of cameras from photographers but Paula didn't care. It was all she could do not to kiss him.

"Yes," she said. "Let's get out of here."

He navigated her out of the airport and into a car like a pro, somehow managing to gather her plethora of suitcases without her really noticing.

In his car, he drove with his hand on her thigh while she tried to get used to the wrong side of the road again.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Home," he said. "Where I will have my way with you for about twenty four hours. And then, uh, Terri has invited us over for dinner tomorrow. A sort of, no hard feelings thing, I'd imagine."

"Terri?" Paula exclaimed. "I didn't even know you were talking to her."

"Well we were friends for a long time before we got together," he said. "I thought it was big of her to even call."

"Does she know we're...." Paula didn't want to say together, because they weren't, really, and she didn't want to say fucking because it was crass so she just trailed off.

"I haven't told her," Simon says. "Who knows why she thinks you're here."

"We were friends, you know," Paula said. "It's going to be strange."

"We don't have to go," he said. "Lord knows I've canceled on her a million times before."

"I didn't mean that," she said. "I'm just hardly ever friends with my exes."

"I know," he said squeezing her thigh.

"Well," she said. "I guess since you told me you were talking to Terri, I should probably tell you that I saw Emilio."

"When?" he asked. She pried his fingers from her leg and patted his hand.

"He came over to the house right after you left. I ended up having dinner with his whole family," she said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

"I forgot," she admitted. "But now when I invite him over for dinner one night, I can remind you of the time we ate with Terri."

"I have a sudden urge to murder brutally every man you've ever shagged," he said.

"If I had that feeling, I'd wipe out half of womankind," she said. "Are you jealous?"

"Are you?" he shot back. She thought about it.

"I don't know. Do I have any right to be?" she asked. It was a thinly veiled attempt at some definition. In the summer, when it was warm and temperatures ran high, things were easier. It was just like a summer fling, a friends with benefits sort of deal but now she'd flown across an ocean to spend the holidays with him, and possibly his mother, and this was making her a little nervous. She chewed her lip.

"You're allowed to feel how you feel," he said, vaguely.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," she said, honestly. "I don't want anything to change." His sigh of relief was audible and she craned her neck to look at London as it flew by.

"You are my favorite person that I've had sex with," he said, so pleased at her statement. She grinned at him.

"You are in the top ten," she promised and then ducked to avoid the hand that came flying toward her.

"You really don't want to get into numbers," he said.

"You're right," she said. "I really don't."

London was gray and freezing and Paula wasn't surprised by either of these facts. She pulled her coat closer around her when Simon opened the door for her and she watched him lug her suitcases up the stairs to his townhouse.

"Need help?" she said, with no intention of actually doing so. He gave her a look like hell would freeze over if she actually tried to lift a bag, and she shrugged as if to say, "At least I have the manners to ask."

Paula had been to his house before, when filming X-Factor, and it's mostly the same. She didn't stay there and when they first started planning for the trip, she offered to book herself a hotel room but Simon would have none of it.

"People won't watch as closely here," he said on the phone and she wanted to believe him so she agreed to stay with him. The house was well heated and Simon's housekeeper, Mrs. Lewis greeted her as soon as they walked in. Paula hadn't met the older woman but had heard about her enough.

"This is Paula," Simon said, a little reluctantly.

"My goodness! Look at you! Isn't she beautiful, Simon? How lovely you are, my dear," Mrs. Lewis said, taking her hand in both of hers. "You must be tired, and hungry. Oh now, let's get you all settled in." Paula smiled widely, trying not to laugh and looked at Simon who just shrugged as if to say, "She's English, what do you want?" They were getting better at the whole unspoken communication thing, because Paula knew exactly what he was feeling by his expression.

"Thank you," Paula said, allowing the housekeeper to remove her jacket and hang it on the stand by the door.

"Simon has told me all about you. Come on, come on, we'll get you some tea and you'll feel better." Paula allowed Mrs. Lewis to pull her down the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. Simon followed behind and sat down at the kitchen table next to Paula while Mrs. Lewis lit the stove. "It's been so long since we've had a proper houseguest," she continued. Paula really was tired and was content to sit and listen to Mrs. Lewis spill Simon's secrets. It was clear that Simon had no control over what she said and didn't even try to stop the flow of words. He just put his arm over her shoulder and looked relaxed, at home in a way he never did in Los Angeles.

"I'm grateful I can stay in a house and not at a hotel," Paula admitted. "I love this house."

"I've worked for Simon for nearly fifteen years now," Mrs. Lewis said, bustling around and filling the tray with tea service. "I feel like he's my own son."

"Don't tell mum," Simon said, good-naturedly.

"Oh, she knows and is happy to share," Mrs. Lewis said. "But with Simon in the States and Miss Seymour out of the picture, if you'll excuse me, Miss Abdul, it's been awfully lonely here. It's better when Simon comes home, but when he told me you were coming, well, I was just excited! We don't usually have a tree, you know, for Christmas but I insisted that company deserved a proper holiday with all the trimmings."

"And I told her that you were Jewish, but it just went in one ear and out the other," Simon said.

"Just because you don't favor our lord Jesus doesn't mean you can't enjoy a pretty tree with lights," Mrs. Lewis said merrily, setting the tea service down and pouring out two cups. "Oh, Simon love, I bought some of those chocolate biscuits you love. They're in the pantry, I'll be back in a moment," she said, disappearing down the hall.

"She is hilarious," Paula said, laughing.

"She arrives at six and leaves at six," Simon said. "Five days a week. Don't worry, we'll have nights to ourselves."

"Worry?" Paula asked. "Think of what she could tell me about you!"

"None of that, darling," he said, tugging a lock of her hair sharply. "Drink your tea."

Mrs. Lewis arrived with the biscuits and presented some on a plate.

"Now if you need anything, my dear, you just ask. I made up the guest bedroom for you and I'll make sure all your bags are put away before I go," she said, smiling. "So good to have you! And so pretty! Oh!"

Paula laughed and glanced at Simon. As soon as she left again, Paula shook her head.

"Sleeping in the guest room, huh?" she asked.

"Well, she's a tad old fashioned," Simon admitted.

"After fifteen years of working for you, that's a miracle," Paula said. "Women in and out all the time."

"I'm not quite the man whore you make me out to be," he said, mock offended. She stared at him. "Anymore," he added.

"That's what having Paula does to a man," she said, sipping her tea. "I ruin all other women for you because I'm so good."

"That's right," he said, kissing her cheek. "All I want is you."

They waited for Mrs. Lewis to leave for the night before they went upstairs. Simon showed her to her "room" where all her luggage had been placed. It was a nice, if generic room.

"It's the room that ended my relationship with Terri," he said. "She wanted to strip the wallpaper and I didn't care enough to change a thing."

"Over wallpaper?" Paula asked.

"Well, perhaps now I see that the room was a metaphor for something larger but... you know," he said. "Good thing, too."

"Good?" she asked.

"Now you're here," he clarified. She leaned up and kissed him.

"Let's go to bed," she said.

"You know, it's really better if you try to stay up. It will help you adjust to the time different more easily," he said.

"Not to sleep, you moron," she said. "Now show me your room."

oooo

Paula woke up before Simon. She could hear rain against the window, and was pretty sure it'd been raining all night since the sound was familiar and comforting. It was almost six am, which in her time felt like ten at night. How confusing. Her body felt heavy with sleepiness though she was waking up quickly. Beside her in bed, Simon snored lightly into his pillow. He was pale now, from months out of the L.A. sun. His chest hair was dark against his skin and her skin against his was even darker still. She was good about keeping up her tanning regimen, spray only, of course. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest and he turned his head so he was facing her.

"It's so early," he mumbled.

"Time is all weird," she said. "I'm awake."

"Ugh," he said. "Vacation means sleep. Close your eyes."

"Okay," she said. She endeavored to give it a try. She closed her eyes, focusing on the deepness of his breathing next to her and the steady white noise of the rain outside. She was in London, she was sleeping next to a handsome man and for several days in a row, she had no real responsibility. It was a life she could get used to, waking up with another person in a posh city every day. Waking up next to Simon.

"I can hear you thinking," he said.

"You can not," she said, rolling against him.

"I can. Paula thoughts are loud." He was silly when he was sleepy. He was not a morning person, and she wasn't either, really, but did a better job than he did.

"I can't help it," she said.

"Fine," he said. "Then do what you want but let me sleep." She thought for a moment before she slipped out of the bed and padded toward the bathroom. She wasn't wearing anything and the air was cold away from the down comforter and his body. "Where are you going?"

"To take a bath," she said. He didn't respond so she closed the bathroom door behind her and let him sleep, just as he asked.

Simon's bathtub was enormous for the size of the bathroom and really the size of the house. In America, the townhouse would be described as, at best, narrow and pokey but for London it was big and in a glamorous neighborhood. Everything in the house was expensive, she could tell, including the large bathtub with jets and fancy fixtures. She turned on the hot water and didn't bother with the cold. Simon had learned the hard way not to surprise her in the shower. She liked the water almost too hot to stand and he'd leapt out with a shriek that had her giggling for an hour.

When the tub was full, she slowly eased herself into the tub, hissing at the heat but pushing on until she was submerged completely. Her hair floated around her and she stretched out, closing her eyes. There was nothing like a good bath. She realized too late that she probably should have retrieved her toiletries because there was a bar of soap and Simon's masculine shampoo but she was so warm and relaxed that it didn't matter.

About fifteen minutes later, Simon came in. He'd put on a pair of boxers and sat on the edge of the tub.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said, feeling drowsy now herself.

"You're naked in my tub," he said, as if that explained everything.

"I was naked in your bed, and you still wanted to sleep," she pointed out.

"But now you're wet and naked," he said. "Plus I could hear you splashing."

"Since you're up, you should go get me my own shampoo," she said. "In my brown bag." He didn't look thrilled but left and came back a few minutes later holding her toiletry bag and wearing a robe.

"I had to dodge Mrs. Lewis," he said. "Thought I'm sure she's already noticed your untouched guest bed."

"You're a grown up," Paula said, digging out her shampoo with wet hands. "And a skank. She shouldn't be surprised."

"Skank?" he asked.

"I believe your term was man whore," she said. "Now leave me be. I have to wash my hair."

"You aren't going to invite me in?" he pouted.

"Too hot for you," she said. He frowned but didn't argue.

"I have to go to X-Factor today," he said. "Will you come?" She tilted her head as if considering this proposition deeply.

"Of course," she said. "And then dinner with Terri?"

"Yes. And I want you to wear something slutty," he said.

"It's December! It's freezing!" she said. "Plus, that's mean."

"I don't care," he said. "I want you to push those girls up high."

She splashed a few drops on him and he grinned, leaning down to kiss her. It was meant to be a quick kiss but she let it linger until his hand was sliding along the edge of the tub toward her. He dipped it into the water, intending a caress, or knowing Simon, a grope but he yanked it back, hissing.

"Hot!" he exclaimed. "Are you even human, sitting in that boiling tub?"

"Told you," she said. He wiped his hand off and gave her an untrusting look as he left the bathroom.


	14. In which there are many older British women

Paula ate breakfast under the all-knowing, all-seeing gaze of Mrs. Lewis. Her hair was still wet because Lauren, in her first dramatic failure, forgot to pack the outlet converter for Paula's blow dyer. Simon promised to remedy that immediately, but she decided to just live and let live. There were eggs and thick bacon on the table, but Paula nibbled on toast while Simon was upstairs showering.

Paula knew that Mrs. Lewis knew that Paula did not sleep in the guest bed. Still, neither said anything about it and when Mrs. Lewis did speak, it was surprising.

"If I had to listen to all of those bad singers all day, I would just die," she said and Paula laughed.

"Sometimes death seems like the best option," Paula admitted. "Simon does it more than any of us."

"I know. I think he ought to go back to just working at the record company myself," she said, lowering her voice as if sharing a great secret.

"But then he wouldn't come to America," Paula reasoned. "I would miss him."

"It isn't as if he needs the money," Mrs. Lewis said, still speaking quietly. "It's a wonder he still has a job at all."

Paula understood. They all had made a mint off American Idol, and Simon triple that. Still, the idea of it ending was unsettling. The three judges had just recently renewed their contracts for three more seasons but it was probably the last renewal they would negotiate. Simon wanted to go out while still on top and Paula understood his reasoning. Always with a bang, never a whimper.

Simon came downstairs for breakfast and tousled her hair as he passed. He wished Mrs. Lewis a good morning and poured himself a cup of coffee. He and Paula were both in robes – Paula in her own chocolate brown one and Simon in his ratty green one he'd probably had for years. She would get him a new one for Christmas, a nice lush one with his initials on the breast pocket. He sat next to her and dug into his breakfast.

"Darling, will you be ready to go in an hour?" he asked through a mouthful of eggs. She wrinkled her nose at him but nodded and went upstairs, leaving Simon and his housekeeper to talk about her in her absence.

She didn't bother dressing up. She tried to contain her natural curls in a hair elastic but managed to drape her ponytail over one shoulder and left it at that. She put on jeans and brown boots. She wore a beige knit sweater and was just winding a brown scarf around her neck when he came up to check on her. She had make-up on, enough, but not enough for the camera and he kissed her when he saw her.

"We should go," he said. "Are you sure you won't be bored? You could stay in if you want another day to adjust."

"I want to be with you," she said. "I have my computer. I have plenty of things to do," she promised. "I haven't seen Sharon in forever."

"You'll be quite the surprise," he promised. "Sharon will probably try to drag you by your hair to get you on the camera."

"Ain't gonna happen," she said.

"Just be prepared. Her high, whining voice can be quite persuasive," he groaned.

"Aww, baby, you used to talk about me that way," she said.

"I still do," he promised. She punched him in the side, but he took it like a man and soon they were in the car and pulling into the lot. When they walked into the studio, they didn't touch. Paula smiled and greeted everyone like the professional that she was and Sharon had a small fit when she saw Paula.

"You have to guest judge again!" she screeched, waving her small dog around so much that even Paula, someone who waved a dog herself now and again, started worrying about brain damage.

"Not today," she said. "Not without my entourage!"

"Why are you in town?" she asked. Simon and Paula hadn't really discussed how they might answer this question so Paula said what was partially the truth.

"Vacation," she said. "But don't let me interrupt. I'm just going hole myself up in Simon's dressing room and watch the live feed."

Simon's dressing room was similar to his Idol one. There was a closet full of predicable clothing, a large TV that fed the image of the main camera from the stage. She'd judged for auditions, but they were further along in the competition tonight, so she'd be watching performances. There was a leather couch in Simon's room and she dropped her stuff and closed the door. She'd slept a lot, but she was still jet-lagged. She laid down, pulling the throw blanket over her, and watched the judges take a seat at the table. Simon was uncomfortably sitting through the make-up girl powdering him and Sharon was cooing ridiculously at her dog. Paula let her eyes close for a moment. Soon, she was asleep.

oooo

"Paula?"

She heard the voice, but she was so warm and comfortable that she decided to ignore it.

"Paula Abdul, this is your conscience speaking," the voice continued. Her conscience sounded a lot like Simon. She felt a hand shake her shoulder and she opened her eyes. Simon was peering down at her with a small smile.

"What?" she asked. "I'm napping."

"You've napped through the whole show," he said. "It's time to go."

"Really?" she asked, sitting up.

"Yep. I came in a few hours ago to check on you and you were out of it. I thought I best just let you sleep," he said. "But we have dinner with Terri tonight, and knowing you, you need three hours to get ready."

"Ugh," she said. She was going, but she didn't have to be happy about it. Simon held up what looked like a piece of beige plastic. "What's that?"

"Your present. Jonathan dropped off your outlet converter. You can blow dry, flat iron, and curl to your heart's content when we get home," he said. She sat up for this.

"Well okay," she said, leaning in for a sleepy kiss. He kissed her softly, and when he ran his tongue along her lips, she opened her mouth and tilted her head. She felt his arms move around her and tug her into his lap.

"OH MY GOD, SIMON COWELL!" Sharon's screeching voice startled them so much that they sprung apart. Paula wiped at her mouth guiltily and knew she was blushing.

"Ever hear of knocking?" Simon asked crossly.

"Paula you little liar. You're not here for vacation, you're here for a shag!" she said. Paula put her face in her hands and Simon walked over to Sharon, pulled her into the room, and closed the door behind her. Sharon looked a little frightened for a moment but held her ground. "You didn't tell me."

"She's not here for a shag," Simon said, which was pretty much a straight lie.

"We're just friends," Paula piped up meekly.

"I thought I was your favorite lady judge," Sharon said, trying to joke her way out of what was turning out to be a somewhat serious conversation.

"Look," Simon said, rubbing his face. "What's it going to take to get you to shut your loud, obnoxious mouth?"

"Simon!" Paula exclaimed. The thing was, Simon was one of the best liars that Paula had ever met and it bothered her to see him admit defeat so easily. She felt he should have fought to...not have her. Actually, Paula was sort of confused.

"I won't say a word to anyone but Ozzy," she promised, which wasn't really a threat because Ozzy Osbourne made Paula Abdul look like the president of MENSA.

"Why don't you not say anything to anyone," Simon suggested but Sharon just laughed in a cackling witch sort of way and disappeared from the dressing room. Simon slid on his jacket and helped Paula gather her things. "Stop blushing. You're practically oozing guilt right now."

"I can't help it," she said. "Besides, you didn't even try to deny it."

"What's the point?" he asked, locking the door behind them.

"The point is...." she said, trailing off. "The point is that... the point doesn't matter! Simon!"

"Either you're ashamed of me or you aren't," he said. "And look at me! What is there to be ashamed of?"

"Plenty," she said. They had made it to the parking lot and he opened her door for her, letting her slide in out of the rain before he situated himself and headed for home. "You're rude. You belittle me and my career on national television."

"I tease you. And your career is respectable and anything I say otherwise is a lie," he assured her. "I actually kind of liked Head Over Heels."

"You're just lying now," she said, huffing.

"No, I did! I think I maybe even have a copy somewhere," he said. She stuck her tongue out at him. "It's your sexy album. I never realized before that you could be so sexy."

"I am a hot little number, aren't I?" she asked.

"The hottest," he promised. "The hottest woman I've ever gone with."

"Gone with?" she laughed. "Is that what we're doing? Going together?"

"Tonight we're going together to my exes to flaunt your 'hot little number' self, yes," he said.

"I'm not going to make her feel bad," she snapped. "I'm serious."

"I know, I know," he said, holding up a hand. "I'm just so proud to be fucking you."

"God, Simon," she said. "You pig."

"She'll probably have some man there anyway. Terri always hated odd numbers," he said.

At the house, Mrs. Lewis was out but all of Paula's things had been quietly moved to the master bedroom and the guest room looked as if it hadn't been disturbed in weeks.

Later, Paula sat on a small stool at the vanity in Simon's bedroom. She was wrapping long pieces of her hair around her curling iron, trying to fight the frizzing that winter in London caused. She wore only her bra and panties and one of Simon's t-shirts, in effort to keep her dress free of hair product or make-up. They were earnestly getting ready to go to dinner at Terri's. Simon was in the shower – she could hear him humming softly and it was kind of cute. She'd done up her make-up already and was going to wear a red dress – satin and to her knees. It had capped sleeves and a low but not tarty neckline. With boots and a scarf, it would look attractive but not like she was trying too hard. It also made her look really tiny – she always felt tiny around Terri but Simon had admitted that being with her was being with a pocket sized woman and it brought out some strange, protective quality in him that he liked.

Paula took off the shirt and started fluffing her hair, checking to see if she had missed any pieces when Simon came out.

"If you ever want me to be ready on time, you're going to have to stop prancing about in red lingerie," he said. He was still damp and wrapped only in a towel but pulled her against him and started kissing her neck. "You smell nice," he said.

"You're wet," she complained, but didn't really try to push him away.

"Oh good," he said. "Are you?"

Simon could be spectacularly dirty when he wanted to be – she didn't know if her being used to it was a good or a bad thing. She just laughed at his pun and tried to get away, but instead he held tightly and let his hand wander down her front and inside her panties. She gasped when his warm fingers slid beneath the waistband and moved against her.

"A little," he commented. "But you could be more, I think."

Her only response was to groan when his finger came into contact with her clit and started rubbing soft, slow circles.

"No time," she gasped but he ignored her and moved them so they were on the bed. He pulled off her underwear and set them aside. He moved his hands to the curve of her ass and lifted so she was against his mouth. She moaned loudly and gave up the fight when his tongue started to stroke her. "Si," she whimpered.

"Hmm?" he asked. The vibrations of his voice shot through her and she couldn't help but buck her hips against his face.

"Fuck me," she gasped, tugging at him until he moved away from her and stretched out on top of her, the towel at the foot of the bed, bunched and forgotten. He wasted no time in sliding into her and she wrapped her legs around his hips. His hands moved to her breasts, massaging her through the shiny, satin bra. She writhed beneath him. It was amazing how quickly he could turn her on, how he could have her begging in moments. When he pushed into her, it felt as if she'd never before been as full. He stretched her to the point of burning, the line between pleasure and pain thin and sometimes hard to find. But he never hurt her. Instead, the feeling made her head spin and her breathing labored.

His eyes were closed with concentration and she could see the sweat forming on his brow and he pumped into her. She closed her eyes too, giving into the sensation. His hand wormed between them and he found her clit. He started rubbing and she knew it was all over. She didn't even have time to warn him before her orgasm crashed into her.

He wasn't far behind and shouted when he came, going rigid above her. She moved her hands soothingly down his sweaty back while he regained his compsure. His hair was damp and she ran her fingers through it, dragging her nails lightly over his scalp. He moved back onto his elbows and kissed her. She felt rubbery in the joints and realized if they never got out of bed again, she'd probably be happy.

"What," she said, after several minutes of post-coital cuddling, "is the point of us showering?"

He chuckled.

"We never can control ourselves long enough to make it count," she continued. "Now we're all sweaty and smell like sex and I'm sure my hair is all fucked up."

"You're beautiful," he murmured.

"If by beautiful you mean all smelly and smudged."

"I just mean beautiful," he said. He glanced at the clock. "Shit! We're going to be late! Why did you seduce me like that?"

"WHAT?" she screeched, pushing him away from her roughly. "ME?"

Simon pulled on some underwear while Paula tried to find hers while assessing herself in the mirror. She did look a little tousled but there wasn't much to be done now. She found her panties and disappeared into the bathroom to clean up and put on her dress. Fifteen minutes they were out the door and already twenty minutes late.

"She's going to take one look at me and know," Paula moaned.

"What do you bloody care?" Simon asked. "I didn't cheat on her with you."

"That's true," she said. Though, sometimes it felt that way. All the hugging, all the 'are they, aren't they' press that Terri had to live through. All the kissing on camera, the tickling, the poking, the late nights, the weekends away. "Just, don't talk about it," she pressed.

"Fine. We'll just talk about whatever handsome young thing on Terri's arm tonight."

Simon's GPS gave them directions to Terri's apartment which told Paula that Simon had never been there. She wanted to believe that this was all going to be all right. Simon found parking on the street and they walked up the steps together. Paula stood close to Simon; it really was cold, and let her hip bump him while he rang the buzzer.

"Is that you, Simon?" Terri's low, husky voice sounded even more gravely through the intercom. "You're rather late."

"Sorry," he said without any feeling. The door buzzed and Simon opened it, allowing Paula to step in before him. They climbed the stairs and Simon put his hand on her butt as they went, patting it reassuringly. Paula read little into it – he'd been copping a feel for years now. At the appropriate door, Simon knocked and after a few beats, the door opened. Terri was still tall and gorgeous. She had clear skin and very little make-up and was wearing a tasteful black wrap dress and chunky silver jewelry and Paula realized at once that it was a mistake to even come.

"Hi!" Terri said, smiling like she was genuinely excited to see them. Simon gave her a one armed hug and Terri kissed both of Paula's cheeks. "Come in, come in."

"I'm so sorry we're late," Paula said. She shrugged out of her coat and wished she'd worn pants and a turtleneck. Everything about her red dress feels contrived and over the top.

"It's all right," Terri said, taking the coat. "You look just lovely."

"Thanks," Paula said. At first glance, the apartment was small. It was bigger than Lauren's glorified closet, but still small. It was odd to see Terri in a normal person's apartment, but then, Paula had always seen her living in Simon's lap of luxury. Paula was comforted by the fact that if she were to stop seeing Simon, she would have her own fortune to rely on. She didn't need him.

"So who is it?" Simon asked, crossing his arms and peering around the apartment suspiciously. "I know there is someone else here to even out the table settings."

"He knows me so well," Terri laughed. "I wanted to surprise you!"

Terri hung their coats on the coat rack and let them down a hallway and through a swinging door into the kitchen/dining room area.

"They're here!" Terri called. This time, Paula followed Simon, happy to hang back and pretend this night wasn't happening. She was being dramatic, she knew. Terri was being perfectly nice and polite. She was being the bigger person, trying to remain friends with an ex like Simon. And she didn't look at Paula with dagger eyes, the expression that meant 'I know you're doing my boyfriend' and this was all good. Paula took a breath and prepared herself to meet Terri's new boyfriend.

She ran into Simon's back with an 'oomph' and rubbed her nose, wondering why he'd stopped so short. Paula stepped around him and shot him a dirty look before realizing that Terri's new boyfriend was actually a familiar looking older woman.

"Surprise!" Terri shouted gleefully.

"Hi Mum," said Simon.

Oh yeah, that's why she was familiar, Paula realized.

It was Simon's mother.


	15. In which Paula wins over Simon's mother

"Hello darling." Simon's mother (Julie, Paula's brain supplied) kissed Simon's cheek and hugged him. Simon hugged back but seemed sort of shocked. Paula knew he was close to his mother and wanted him to snap out of it. She was the one facing an awkward evening, after all.

"You look nice," he said.

"She called me a few days ago, and I knew you were coming so I thought, why not?" Terri asked, clearly extremely pleased with herself. Paula wanted to slap the grin off her face but refrained. It was hard enough, being with Simon and not at the same time. It was hard enough facing an evening with his ex-girlfriend who was supposedly also a friend. It was hard enough being in London away from her life, her assistant, and her wider wardrobe. The last thing she needed was Simon's mother thrown into the mix.

"You know Paula," Simon said. Paula shook Julie's hand and it became clear that neither knew what to say to one another and that Julie wasn't entirely sure why Paula was even there.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Cowell," she said finally and then there were a few beats too many of silence. Inside, Paula started to hate Simon and his country just a little bit.

"Well, it's ready," Terri said, and they moved to the table. Paula was used to Simon pulling out the seat for her, but instead held a chair for his mother and gave an apologetic expression to Paula as she sat across from him, next to Terri.

Terri immediately launched into catching Simon up on her life. Paula could see exactly what she was doing – she was reminding him that she was fabulous whether he was in her life or not. It came off a little petty, but Paula didn't blame her because she'd been there before. Paula didn't forgive her, however, for making her sit through twenty minutes of stories about Simon, Simon's mother, and Terri, which Paula couldn't participate in at all.

"Remember Simon?" Terri said, laughing. "I can't believe the toilet flooded the whole suite! Julie and I slept together in the bed and you slept on that little cot!"

"I remember," Simon said, pouring himself more wine and then topping off Paula's glass.

"That was still a lovely vacation," Julie sighed. "We had such fun together."

Paula drank her wine. She was eating the food, but she didn't really taste it.

"I hear you're singing again," Terri said. It took a moment for Paula to realize that she was finally being spoken to, and she smiled.

"Randy and I recorded a song," Paula said. "It's true."

"How exciting," Terri cooed. "You and Randy!"

"I was in the video," Simon said. "A great song. She looked great in the video."

"Thank you," Paula said.

"I've always been a fan," Terri said. "I used to dance around to your songs in my bedroom when I was a little girl!" Paula knew a compliment when she heard one and this wasn't it. This was, however, a thinly veiled insult – it was Terri calling her old.

"And that was what? Five years ago?" Paula snapped.

"I think I'm going to go have a smoke," Simon said, pushing back on the table. "Paula? You want to go get some air?"

Paula stood and followed Simon out the side door on to the little balcony while Terri and Simon's mother watched them disappear behind the gauzy curtains. Outside, the clouds had gathered and everything was covered with a very fine layer of snow. Paula's teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around herself. Simon lit his cigarette and she didn't complain. Being out here was still better than being in there.

"My mum is an innocent bystander in all of this," Simon said.

"I know," she said. Julie had been nothing but polite and distant in her civil, British way.

"And this isn't about you. It's about Terri being angry at me," Simon said.

"All right," she said. "Fuck, it's cold."

"We'll go," Simon said. "And we'll invite my mum over and we'll do this again, but right."

"And you'll tell her what, exactly?" Paula asked, miserably. "That I'm your co-worker?"

"No," he said. "I don't know. I'll tell her the truth."

"That we have sex but you have no intention of having a real relationship with me?" she said.

"You're the one who didn't want to talk about it, Paula. You're the one who said you didn't want things to change! What do you want from me? You know me, you know me better than almost anyone now. I've been bending over backwards to accommodate you and I can't seem to make you happy no matter what!" he said, his hissing almost louder and more startling than yelling. He ground out his cigarette and flung the butt over the edge to the street below.

"You're right," she said. "I don't know what I want. I want everything, but I don't get to have that so..."

"Says who?" he said.

"I can't have this talk here," she said.

"Okay," he said. "Come on." He opened the door and they stepped back into the stifling, warm apartment. Julie smiled at them.

"Feeling a little better?" she asked them and Simon kissed her cheek.

"We're fine, Mum," he said. "I'm actually feeling a little tired. We had a long day today so we were thinking of taking off."

"So soon?" asked Terri from the doorway. "I haven't even served dessert yet."

"Rain check," Simon said.

"Well, I'll box some up," she said. "Lend me a hand, Paula?"

"Of course," Paula said, following Terri into the kitchen, hoping one day she might exit it again too. There was a pie on the counter and Terri pulled a long knife out of the butcher's block on the counter. Paula knew she wasn't there to help but to listen so she stepped out of the way and leaned against the counter. "You seem to be doing well," Paula said.

"Very," Terri replied, slicing through the pie. It was still warm; Paula could see the steam rising from within. "You too. You seem happy."

Which was a lie. Maybe Paula was happy in the larger scheme of things but tonight, at this dinner, she was not happy. She felt attacked, sideswiped and out of her league. Terri had been the worst kind of bitch. She had played the mother card and had pretended to be nice while doing it.

"Simon is a good host," Paula said, feeling a little like rubbing her nose in it. Terri navigated a slice of the pie into a plastic container and then turned to face Paula.

"Let me tell you something about Simon," Terri said. "He is charming and wonderful. He likes to date his friends. He hates getting to know new people, so he waits and then when you least expect it, he lures you into his bed. But then time passes, and he doesn't want anything to change, and then more time passes and he gets bored and suddenly he's off finding a new friend and you're all alone." She spun back around to slice the second piece.

"Terri, I'm really sorry things didn't work out for you, but..." Paula said.

"Take your pie," she said, shoving the warm containers into Paula's hand before leaving the kitchen and disappearing down a dark hallway. She heard a door slam. Paula set the pie back onto the counter and went back into the living room.

"Everything all right?" Simon asked.

"We should probably go," Paula said carefully.

"We're going to take Mum home," he said. Julie was already in her coat, looking uncomfortable. Simon helped Paula with her coat and they let themselves out quietly. Paula sat in the backseat and they were on the road before Simon spoke.

"Care to share what that was about?" he asked, finally.

"She was upset," Paula said.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I barely said three words," Paula said, defensively.

"Terri is upset about you, dear," Julie said. "She's just learning to adjust to life without you."

"It's been months," Simon said. "We shouldn't have gone over there."

"That's what I said," Paula muttered. "Though it was nice to catch up with you, Mrs. Cowell."

In the rearview mirror, Simon rolled his eyes at her.

"You'll come for Christmas, won't you?" Julie asked Paula.

"I'm here through the new year," Paula said.

"Oh good," Julie said. "We can really get to know each other then."

"I'd like that," Paula said.

"How about you get together tomorrow?" Simon asked. Paula blinked. "I have one more day of filming before the break. You'd be bored all day, Paula."

"You should come over for tea!" Julie agreed.

"Sure," Paula agreed. How could she say no?

oooo

Paula sat at the foot of Simon's bed. Simon was taking off his clothes, getting ready for bed. Paula was thinking about how glad she was that the evening was over but how she was not looking forward to tomorrow.

"Paula?" Simon was waving his hand in front of her face. She looked up at him. He was in pajama pants and shirtless. He looked a little scruffy after a day of beard growth and he looked tired. It had to have been a hard night for him, too.

"Yeah?" she asked. "Sorry. I was zoning."

"I'm sorry about..."

"No, I am," she said. "Let's just... pretend this night never happened." He sat next to her and sighed.

"I'm not ashamed of you," he said. "I just feel what we do is no one's business but our own."

"I agree," she said. "I don't want to fight."

"We're not fighting," he promised. "If you want to tell Terri. If you want to tell my mother. If you want to tell Ken and Nigel, I won't stop you."

"It's not that I want to tell anyone," she said. "I just hate lying."

"We're tired," he said. "Let's put on a movie and fall asleep."

"I'm going to go call Lauren," she said. "Can I use your office?"

"It's six am there," he warned.

"I know," Paula said.

"Go ahead," he said. "I'll be here."

Lauren answered on the second ring while Paula settled into Simon's leather chair in his dark office. She didn't bother with the light – the light from the hall was good enough. She kicked off her shoes.

"Hello?" Lauren asked, sounding tired but awake.

"Hey, it's Paula," she said.

"Hi!" Lauren said, perking up. "How is London?"

"Wet and cold," said Paula. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I'm awake. Working on your website," she said. "Are you okay? You sound kind of gloomy."

"Simon and I had dinner with Terri..."

"What?" exclaimed Lauren.

"And his mother," Paula finished. She could hear the sound Lauren sucking in air through her teeth.

"Yikes," she said. "How was that?"

"Terri surprised his mother on the both of us and called me old," Paula said.

"Does she know about you and Simon?" Lauren asked.

"Oh, she knows. I don't know how she knows, but she knows. She cornered me in the kitchen and ranted about Simon sleeping with all his friends and getting bored, or something. I don't know; it was creepy. And now I have to have tea with his mother, alone, tomorrow."

"What will you talk about?" Lauren asked.

"Fuck if I know," Paula said. "I just wanted to check in with you and complain about England."

"Things are all quiet here, boss," Lauren said. "Thought I miss the Paula show."

"And I miss you," Paula admitted. "And the stern way you run my life."

"How is Simon?" she asked. "During all of this craziness?"

"He was actually really good. To tell you the truth, it's me that's acting kind of crazy."

"You? Crazy? No..." Lauren laughed. "Who would ever believe that?"

"Smartass," Paula said. "It's like, he's totally calm about everything, and I'm a mood swing away from laughing or crying every ten minutes."

"This is supposed to be your vacation," Lauren said. "Don't worry about what people are thinking and just concentrate on you and Simon. That's my advice."

"I'll try," Paula said. "Anyway. I'm going to sleep."

"Goodnight," Lauren said.

"Good morning," Paula said. "Bye."

She picked up her shoes and went back to the bedroom. Simon was in bed and smiled at her when she came in. He looked tired and was watching some show on the TV that she didn't recognize.

"Good talk?" he asked.

"Yep," she said. "I'm going to go wash my face." She took off her dress and put on a nightgown. She took off her make-up and when she came out Simon threw back the covers and she slid in next to him. "What are we watching?"

"I haven't the faintest," he said. He turned off the TV, pulled her close, and they fell asleep.

oooo

Paula stayed in bed while Simon got ready to go to work. She was half awake, but mostly dozing. She felt him kiss her goodbye and then she fell into a real sleep, stretching out and sleeping in the middle of the bed.

When she woke up, Mrs. Lewis was downstairs.

"Hello, love," Mrs. Lewis said. "Do you want breakfast? I was just about to leave on my errands."

"I don't need anything," Paula smiled. "Go ahead."

"Simon said to tell you that he's sending a car at three," she said. "I'll see you later."

"Bye," she said.

When three rolled around, Paula was nervous. The car arrived and she slipped in, nodding at the driver who didn't try to talk to her. It wasn't a long ride. Julie met her at the door and smiled at her.

"Hello, come in," she said.

"Hi Mrs. Cowell," Paula said, feeling silly as she said so. She felt like she was still in high school, going to her boyfriend's house in her cheerleading uniform.

"Call me Julie, please," she said. "Come on, hang your coat. Everything is ready."

They sat and chatted about nothing for a while, generic small talk. Finally, Julie set down her cup to level with her.

"What Terri did was wrong," Julie said. "She wanted to be with Simon forever, though I could have told her that wasn't going to happen."

"I..." Paula shrugged. "You know Simon and his women."

"I do," Julie said. "I just want you to know that even though I love Terri like a daughter, I don't hold anything against you for being with my son."

"Oh!" Paula said. "Simon and I are just... we're, you know, with Idol, and when he said I should come for Christmas. Because we've know each other for a while, now, and I just... with him." She closed her eyes briefly. "What I mean to say, is Simon and I are just friends."

Julie stared at her.

"What?" Paula asked, uncomfortably.

"Was that supposed to convince me?" Julie chuckled. "I know Simon. He's always had girlfriend after girlfriend. But he's never had a girlfriend like you."

"Like me?" she asked.

"Someone more famous than he is, for one," she said.

"Well, I'm not exactly his girlfriend," Paula said, sipping her tea. "Half the time he still can't stand me."

"I know he's harsh," Julie said. "Especially on camera. But he gushes about you."

"Gushes?" Paula smirked. "Really?"

"Really," Julie promised. "I don't know how you won him over, but you should bottle it and sell it."

Paula smiled, her expression mysterious over the rim of her teacup.


	16. In which reunions are had

Christmas Eve, Paula and Simon decided not to leave the house. Mrs. Lewis was off and had left the kitchen well stocked and clean so when Paula got up in the morning, there was plenty to make for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. She left Simon sleeping heavily in bed and went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Outside of the warm cocoon of bed, it was cold. Outside, the snow had stopped and everything was monochromatic and icy. Yes, the day would be much better spent in doors. It took a couple minutes to locate all the right pans and ingredients but soon she was underway.

Cooking warmed up the kitchen considerably though her bare feet were still icy. When Simon wandered down, he smiled at the scene she made. Domestic in his kitchen.

"You're awake," she said. "Good timing."

"What do we have here?" he asked, sitting down. She put a plate down in front of him.

"Eggs Florentine, toast, and bacon," she said. "I made the hollandaise sauce from scratch."

"Oh my God, you can cook!" he said, looking down at the elaborate breakfast she'd made for him.

"Of course I can cook," she said. "What an odd thing to say."

"Celebrities can't cook," he said. "I can't cook."

"I wasn't always a celebrity," she laughed, sitting down across from him. "I did have a childhood." Simon took a bite.

"It's good," he said. "Very good."

"Thank you," she said.

"You're a keeper, you know that?" he said. He sounded like he was teasing, but she wasn't sure.

"I know it. It's just that no one I ever date, or marry, seems to be aware of that fact," Paula said.

"If you think about it," Simon said, seriously. "I'm your longest relationship."

"What?" she asked. "You mean five months?"

"I mean seven years," he said. "Sure, the sex part is new, but we've been friends for a while now. And I don't intend to ever stop being your friend."

"What about Daniel?" she asked.

"Okay, your longest relationship with someone who isn't flamingly gay," Simon corrected. She stuck her tongue out, but he wasn't wrong.

"I haven't been spending as much time with Daniel anyway. He's been having some family things. Plus, when I hired Lauren, things just sort of got less hectic and Daniel went back to being just my stylist instead of my life organizer," she explained.

"And then there's Lauren," he said. "Trusty old Lauren, always there to kill my buzz."

"I wish you two would get along, because neither of you is going anywhere," Paula said.

"She won't be your assistant forever," Simon said.

"Shut up! Yes she will!" Paula said, her hands flying up to her ears.

"Oh come on! She's smart and capable and pretty. She's going to go places, places that don't involve bringing people coffee every day," Simon said. "In fact, I've been thinking of offering her a job at Syco."

"What?" Paula exclaimed. "Don't you dare! She's mine."

"I know Ryan would hire her in a second at RSP. You've had her for a year, Paula. That's longer than I thought she would last with you," Simon said. "If you love her like you say, you'll want her to get her foot in the door."

"I do love her," Paula pouted. "But I need her. You don't understand, I need her. Do you remember what I was like before she got here?"

"You were fine," he said.

"I wasn't fine. I was on too much medication and Kylie was shit at running my schedule but I was too out of it to notice. Lauren fixed me!" she argued.

"Yes, but now you're fixed," he said.

"I don't want to talk about this," Paula pouted. "You're ruining my Christmas Eve."

"You're Jewish!" he laughed. "Okay, okay. But I'm just warning you of what's ahead."

"You're doing the dishes," she said, crossing her arms. "Just so you know."

oooo

It had all gone too fast. Simon couldn't believe he was already driving Paula to the airport. She was sitting quietly next to him, sniffling softly. She'd been crying all morning.

"Stay," he'd said. "Then don't go."

"I have to," she said. "But I don't want to."

Christmas had come and gone, spent at his mother's house with Paula and his family – including his brothers and their families. Paula had fit in, fortunately for everyone. She'd charmed his nieces and nephews, impressed her sisters-in-law and laughed with his mother in the kitchen, helping to prepare the feast.

New years had been spent at a charity event, where she'd been beautiful and kind. She'd stayed by his side, but hadn't hung off him like Terri always had, following the photographers around like a dog going after a bone. Paula was a pro, like him, and it was nice to have that around.

"I'll be along in a few weeks," Simon said when he saw her dabbing her eyes with one of his handkerchiefs.

"I know," she said. "I wish you could come for the Superbowl."

"I know darling, me too," he said.

At the airport gate, she kissed him. There were photographers around and she was usually wary of showing him any extra affection in public where it could be caught on film, but this time she really didn't seem to care. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him for nearly a minute. He smiled at her and touched the tip of his nose.

"I'll miss you," he promised. "I'll call every day."

"I know," she said into his chest. Finally she pulled back, hearing the last call of her flight over the intercom. "Simon?" she said in a small voice.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I love you," she said. He was shocked. It wasn't the first time he'd heard those words from her, seriously or joking, but it was the first time she'd said them since they'd started sleeping together. Her face was open and earnest. He kissed her again.

"I love you, too," he said quietly.

"Really?" she smiled widely. He nodded.

"You're going to miss your flight, now go!" She hugged him one last time and then was out of his arms, through the doors and out of sight. He stayed in the terminal until her plane was off the ground.

oooo

Lauren picked her up at the airport. Paula threw her arms around her assistant, happy to see her.

"I brought you presents!" Paula said into Lauren's shoulder.

"Thanks mom!" Lauren teased. "So, I know you're exhausted and hungry, and probably need a shower, but we have to go to a photo shoot right now."

"There's my life!" Paula said, picking up her shoulder bag. "Okay, let's go."

Paula was still in the make-up chair at the photo shoot when her phone started ringing off the hook.

"Can you get that?" she asked Lauren. Lauren glanced at the phone and made a face.

"It's Nigel," she said.

"Ugh," she said Paula.

"Hello?" said Lauren. "Hi Mr. Lythgoe, this is Lauren. Paula? She's doing the OK! shoot for the Hollywood Idol press right now. I don't think she can... okay."

Lauren moved the phone away from her ear.

"What?" asked Paula.

"He says it's important. He says it's about Simon," she said. Paula took the phone, feeling a stab of sadness at the sound of Simon's name.

"Hi Nigel," she said, perfecting the bored tone in her voice.

"Are you and Simon bloody insane?" Nigel's voice was loud enough that Paula winced. The girl working on her hair looked totally interested as she curled Paula's hair. Lauren glared at her.

"I'm fine, how are you?" asked Paula.

"I don't care how you are, Paula, what I care about is the fact that there are pictures of you and Cowell making out on every entertainment website on the goddamn Internet!" he said. "In two days it's going to be on the cover of People, of Us Weekly, and probably every other shitty magazine known to man."

"Making out?" she asked.

"Yes. At Heathrow," he said.

"Nigel, Simon and I flirt and kiss all the time," Paula said. "Why is this time any different?"

"Flirting is one thing. This is not flirting. This is... serious. Tell me right now. Tell me the truth. Are you shagging?" He demanded. Paula sighed, heavily.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked. It was as good as admitting the truth.

"My job is to worry about the show," he said, far more patiently than she thought possible.

"You think extra press is going to hurt the show?" she asked.

"I think that the show is close enough to jumping the shark as it is," he said.

"That's ridiculous," she spat. "This is a show about singing, not about Simon and me."

"Don't be naïve," he said.

"Look, if you have questions, you can call Simon," she said, and hung up. Lauren and the stylist were openly staring at her. She called up the Internet on her phone and went to the People website. They were there, kissing. And maybe Nigel was right – it wasn't the super puckered cutesy kissing that they normally allowed to be filmed. This was a bodies close, arms around one another, open-mouthed kiss. It was a kiss goodbye.

"Well shit," said Lauren over her shoulder. "Was he mad?"

"Yep," Paula said.

"What do you want me to do?" Lauren asked.

"Nothing," Paula said. "We're just going to do nothing."

After the photo shoot, she and Lauren got her dogs and went back to Paula's house.

"You should get some sleep," Lauren said.

"I need to stay up," Paula argued. "I have too much to do tomorrow to stay on London time."

"Well, if you want to work, the new jewelry designs came by courier yesterday," she said, fishing the portfolio out of her big bag. "I'll make you some lunch."

She ate the soup Lauren prepared and was marking off a page of earrings when Simon called her. His ring tone on her phone was Justin Timberlake's 'Cry Me A River,' something that Lauren had uploaded and made them both snicker every time he called.

"Hello?" she said.

"We're in trouble," he said, right away.

"I see Nigel took my advice to call you," she said.

"He wants us to do Leno, to come clean," Simon said.

"No," said Paula.

"What do you mean no?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"I mean, I'll do Leno, of course, but I'm not going to tell the world about us because Nigel threw a hissy," she said. "I'll talk about American Idol until my jaw breaks but I'm not going to talk about my bedroom on national television."

"My god," Simon breathed. "You are a turn-on, aren't you?"

"Don't you agree?" Paula asked.

"Of course. I'll ring him and tell him, and if he fires us, well, then we'll just roll around in our millions of dollars to console ourselves," he said. She laughed, a light tinkly laugh that made his heart skip a beat.

"That's what we'll do," she agreed.

"Darling, why are you even awake?" he asked.

"I had a photo shoot," she said. "And I don't want encourage my jetlag."

"All right. Well, I'm off then," he said. "Bye lovely."

"Bye Si," she said and hung up. Lauren was watching her, trying to pretend she wasn't by slurping her Diet Coke through a straw loudly. "What?" she asked.

"You seem all... happy," she commented. "Not like, regular sex happy like you were before but, hearts and rainbows happy."

"Being happy isn't a crime," Paula said.

"It is when Simon's around. Maybe not a crime, but definitely a conundrum," Lauren said.

"Why don't you just ask me what you want to ask me," Paula said, drinking her own water through a straw.

"Because it's more fun to guess," said Lauren. "Let's see. Are you knocked up?"

"What? No," she said. "No. I don't think so. No. Shut up, don't make me worry about stuff like that."

"Sorry," Lauren said with a laugh. "And P.S. the day a baby comes is the day I quit."

"What?" asked Paula.

"Oh, did I forget to put hating children on my résumé?" Lauren said. "Anyway, what else? Did you get those Jimmy Choo's you were eying in that magazine?"

"Yes, but that's not it," Paula said.

"Ah-ha!" Lauren said. "So there is something. Okay. Wait, I got it."

"What?"

"You're in lo-ooove," she said. "And you told him!" Paula smiled.

"He said it back," Paula said, putting her cool hands to her cheeks that had warmed up with a blush.

"Ew," said Lauren, conversationally. "Can I call him daddy now?"

"That's between you and him," Paula said, going back to her jewelry book. "But I'd be a fast runner if I were you."

oooo

Paula was asleep when Simon called her, exhausted and sore.

"What?" she whispered hoarsely into her phone.

"Guess what I saw on YouTube," came the voice she'd grown to know so well.

"Simon?" she asked, struggling to open her eyes. She readjusted her phone against her ear so she could hear him more clearly.

"Your performance. You have bangs now!" he said

"Yep," she yawned. "Did you like it?"

"I loved it," he said. "You were beautiful."

"I still think I should've done it live," she said, pulling the comforter up over hear head so it was just her and Simon in the dark, warm cave of her bed. Outside, it was early morning, light enough to see by but dark enough that she had no desire to get out of bed.

"You did it live," he said. "Just pre-recorded."

"I know," she moaned. "Anyway, it's over and I'm tired. What are you doing?"

"Oh, this and that," he said. "Tell me, did I wake you?"

"S'okay," she said. "I like when you call me. But yeah, I'm still in bed."

"Why don't you get up and get your newspaper, you lazy girl," he said.

"Lazy? It's six am," she said. "I'm not lazy."

"I bet you made the entertainment section of the Times," he goaded. "Don't you want to see?"

"I guess," she said. "Maybe in a bit."

"I think you should go now," he said. Suddenly, something made her heart flutter. It was hope.

"Okay," she said, and practically leaped out of bed. She was in a pair of Simon's boxer's that she'd stolen when she was in London and a white tank top. She didn't even bother with a robe before she scurried down her stairs and threw open her front door. On her front step was the L.A. Times with a red rose on top. She squealed and ran out into the front drive. As soon as she turned a corner, she could see him, leaning against the hood of his car. She flung herself into his arms.

"You're here!" she said.

"Surprise," he whispered.

"You weren't supposed to be here until next week," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Well, if it upsets you, then I can go," he teased, but she tightened her grip on him.

"Happy tears," she promised. "Oh God, I missed you."

"I missed you too," he said. "Come on, I just got off a plane. Let's go to bed."

"Bed?" she teased. "It's already six am. Isn't that a little lazy?"

He smacked her ass in reply.


	17. Epilogue: In which a year has passed

"I loathe Hollywood week," Simon said, sitting next to her on the airplane. Paula sighed, heavily. This was not the first, second, or third time he'd made the statement since boarding the airplane. They were flying from London to L.A. because Season eight's Hollywood week was beginning in a few days. Simon had wanted to stay in London until the last possible moment, but Paula had persuaded them to leave a little early so they could finalize the sale of Paula's house.

They spent almost all their time in the States at the Malibu house now, or in Simon's other sprawling L.A. mansion when the weather was off. Paula didn't like being so close to the shore when it was stormy. Paula was sad about selling her house; she'd put years of effort into decorating it just so, but she'd bought it with Brad and Simon didn't want to live in a house she'd shared with him. Plus, he thought it was way too small. There was a lot she loved about the Malibu house anyway – it was beautiful, it was just the right size, and it had even renewed her friendship with Emilio. She and Simon had dinner with Emilio and Sonja almost once a month when they were in the States.

"I mean, what is the bloody point?" Simon was still ranting about Idol.

"I know, baby," she said, not really listening. She was reading the latest issue of British Cosmopolitan. There had been a picture of Simon and her together in the front of the issue. Not an article, but a blurb about buying their London flat and Simon finally being 'tamed' by Paula. He'd scoffed.

"At least there's only two more seasons of this shitty show," he growled.

"Don't say that!" she said, gasping. She hated talking about the end of Idol. She knew, of course, that 10 years was a long time for any television show to run, especially a reality show, but the ideal of not doing Idol scared her. "We owe a lot to American Idol and you know it."

"I'll be happy when we don't have make these bloody flights all the time," he muttered. She knew he was just picking a fight out of boredom but she decided to bite anyway.

"So you're agreeing to move to the States full time," she said. "Good to know."

"No, I'm not agreeing to that and you know it!" he said loudly.

"I'm not leaving America! California is my home," she said, icily.

"And London is mine," he said back.

"Then you'll just have to deal with the flights," she said, patiently.

"Or we could just break up and never see each other again," he muttered, crossing his arms and slumping in the seat. He stared past her, out the window into the night sky.

Paula rolled her eyes. If she had a nickel for every time Simon threatened to break-up with her, she'd be a millionaire all over again.

"I'd give you one week before you were crawling back, begging for my hot body," Paula said, returning her attention to the magazine in her lap. "Why don't you just simmer down?"

"I'm perfectly fine," he said. She sighed theatrically and reached into her purse beneath the seat. She fished around for a while until she found the sleeping pill she'd brought with her. She handed it to him.

"I'm not tired," he said.

"That's the point," she said. "Take it and go to sleep so I don't have to kill you."

"You don't have the balls," he said, glaring.

"And neither will you if you don't swallow this right now," she said, her voice soft and warning. Simon winked at her and took the pill. Twenty minutes later, he was asleep against her shoulder.

oooo

Sitting behind the judge's table was both exciting and comfortable. She'd been doing it for nearly a decade now, and yet every time she sat in her chair, she felt like it was the first time. The anticipation; the not knowing how it was all to turn out.

Randy was already seated when she slipped into her chair and about a minute later, Simon showed up.

"Can we start?" Nigel asked, crossly.

"I wish we would," Simon said back, as if he'd been waiting for ages. Paula rolled her eyes, and Randy chose to stay out of it. Paula could see the new batch of contestants milling around backstage and generally looking on the verge of tears or vomiting, or both.

"Seacrest, let's go," Nigel yelled and Ryan hotfooted it up onto the stage. As soon as the camera's turned on, he started his spiel about the bloodbath that was Hollywood week and then turned to introduce the judges.

"We have the talented Randy Jackson, and our resident love-birds, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell," Ryan said into the camera. Paula nodded at the lens that had turned to their table.

"Does the term I told you so mean anything to you, America?" Ryan said into the camera. Simon rolled his eyes but let his arm fall across the back of her chair. Paula wouldn't have thought that the worst part of dating Simon would be Ryan Seacrest but Ryan by far was the most obnoxious about the two of them being together.

When the story had first broken, he'd produced and hosted an E! News special on their relationship and Simon didn't speak to him for a month.

"Have you no sense of loyalty?" Paula had asked him genuinely saddened that Ryan couldn't seem to leave well enough alone.

"It's my job," Ryan had said. "And I've been saying it for years."

"But it only just happened," Paula had argued but Ryan hadn't believed them. Things were still a little tense between everyone because of it.

The first couple months after the Heathrow picture was published had been hellish. They were hounded by paparazzi day and night. It made Simon want to stay in the house as much as possible, but then people just speculated about them staying so many nights in, alone together. No matter what they did, there were articles, pictures and news shows speculating about their relationship – past, present, and future. More than one publication painted Paula as the other woman – implying the Simon had cheated on Terri. Finally, Paula had enough.

"I'm not a whore," she'd said. "We need to do something about this."

So they did what any respectable celebrity couple would do. They went to Barbara Walters.

Their special had aired, conveniently and not accidentally, after the season seven American Idol finale.

"Tell us once and for all," Barbara had said. "Are you together?"

"Yes," said Simon, grinning like the cat who'd caught the canary. "We are."

"Why the lying, then?" Barbara had asked.

"We never lied," Paula said. "We just didn't feel the need to share our personal lives with the public."

"But you're doing so now," Barbara had pointed out.

"Paula and I are tired of the lies being printed. I never cheated on my girlfriend. There was no grand affair. Paula is a good woman who would never do something like that. We were both single when we started seeing one another," Simon had said, carefully.

It didn't make them less popular with the paparazzi, the Walters interview, but at least Paula knew the truth was out there – whether anyone believed it was up to them. When Idol started, nothing really changed. Simon was still a jerk and Paula still tried valiantly to make lemonade out of lemons and they still fought. He still tickled her and she still danced with the fast songs and clapped and cheered for every performance, good or bad. She still occasionally sat on his lap during sweet, slow songs.

Everyone, Nigel at the top of that list, had feared that their relationship would change the show, but it hadn't. The dynamic had stayed the same.

They got two hours for lunch.

"Come on," Simon had said, practically yanking Paula out of her chair and into the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" she asked. "Please don't make me skip lunch for some errand. You know I'm a bitch when I don't eat."

"I have to run to the office," he said. "Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it."

Paula didn't complain. A trip to the U.S. offices of Syco meant she got to see one of her favorite people.

And the offices were close, only a few blocks away from the theater in Hollywood. When they entered the office space, the receptionist smiled at them and waved them into the back. From down the hall, Paula could hear Lauren's voice.

Simon had hired Lauren to run his production company's office. She had the mind to over see the whole operation and she'd gotten a significant pay raise. Lauren glanced up from her phone call and waved excitedly.

"I have to go," she said. "Bye." She hung up the phone and walked around the desk to hug Paula.

"Hi!" Paula squealed, holding Lauren tightly.

"It's so good to see you," Lauren said. "I thought you were filming all day!"

"We are," Paula grumbled. "We're on lunch."

"Hi sugar daddy," Lauren greeted, allowing Simon to kiss her cheek. It turned out that when Lauren wasn't always standing between him and Paula, Simon liked her quite a lot. Paula had given Lauren the blessing to leave her and go work for Simon after a year and a half of having her as her personal assistant.

"I've told you not to call me that," Simon scolded, but everyone knew he liked it. It was dirty, Simon's style.

"Sorry, sorry," she said. "I have the contracts for you. I need them back in two days, and I can come get them from wherever, just make sure you sign at every notation."

"Yes, fine," he said.

"Lauren you should come watch the rest of the day," Paula said.

"Um, excuse me, but she's working," said Simon, taking the contracts from her, a huge stack of papers, held together by a flimsy folder and several rubber bands.

"Well maybe her boss should give her the day off," Paula said.

"Well maybe the talent should mind her own business," Simon said back.

"Well maybe the boss shouldn't have poached my assistant!" Paula snarled.

"Why don't we get dinner afterward?" Lauren said, smoothing stepping between them. "And cocktails. Lots of cocktails."

"Oh, all right," Paula said.

"I'll walk you out," Lauren said, just as her phone started to ring. "Or, I'll catch up," she said. Paula and Simon went out of the office. When Lauren finally made it out to the parking lot of finalize their dinner plans, she saw Paula and Simon standing by the car, lips locked in a particularly steamy make up kiss. She rolled her eyes. When their relationship had first gone public, their amount of fighting had doubled.

But really, fighting meant more making up, and Lauren had never seen a couple who so loved to make up. Lauren watched Simon slide his hand down to Paula's ass and give her a good squeeze.

"All right," Lauren called. "That's enough of that."

"Sorry," Paula said, grinning. "He's just so cute."

"Come to the Malibu house," Simon said. "For dinner."

"Fine," she said. "I love nothing more than being the third wheel to your make-out sessions."

"We'll bring a fourth," Paula said. "How about that?"

"But not Nadia," Lauren said. Nadia was Paula's new assistant, her second since Lauren had moved on to Syco. First had been Molly, who'd been a disaster and had worked for less than a month. Lauren had hired Nadia for Paula and she was good, but it wasn't the same. She was coolly professional with Paula and while there was nothing wrong with her work, Paula couldn't confide in her the way she could with Lauren. Lauren had hired Nadia, but admitted that the woman made her uncomfortable.

"No, no, we'll find some young thing for you to devour," Simon said. "We've got to go or we really will miss lunch." Lauren waved as they drove away. They had enough time for a bite to eat before they were back behind the table, listening to more young things sing for their lives.

On stage was a beautiful girl who was currently warbling her way through a Janet Jackson song. Paula remembered a sweet voice in auditions but here she was succumbing to her nerves. She could tell Simon had already given up on her when he leaned over and started playing with her hair. She glanced at him sideways, a warning not to be rude but he, of course, ignored her.

"What about Ryan?" he whispered.

"Huh?" she asked.

"For dinner," he said, his lips close enough to her ear that she got a little chill. She wondered if the camera was on them.

"You aren't paying attention," she tried to scold, but it was breathy.

"She's out," Simon said, confidently. "Who cares?"

But on the stage, the girl finished her song and they had to focus. Randy told her, basically, that she wasn't good enough.

"I think it was a poor song for you," Paula said. "But you look great."

"Simon?" asked Ryan.

"I was so bored that I had to resort to whispering sweet nothings in my girlfriend's ear just to stay awake," he said. "I didn't vote for you to come to Hollywood and I'm not voting yes now."

"Ouch," said Ryan. "Another harsh critique from Simon. Next up, we have..."

"That was mean," Paula whispered, poking him in the ribs. "Don't blame me for you not paying attention."

"You never answered my question," he chided.

"Talk to me after the show," she said, stubbornly, and scooted her chair away from his wandering hands.

After filming, he knocked on her dressing room door.

"Ryan, yay or nay?" he asked. "I want to catch him before he leaves."

"Ryan? For Lauren?" Paula asked. "I don't know."

"It's just dinner, babe, it's not matchmaking. Besides, he just broke up with what's her face, maybe he'd like a nice homemade meal," Simon said.

"That's true," Paula reasoned. "Okay, invite him."

"Will you be ready when I come back?" he asked, looking at the mess of make-up, clothes, and shoes that made up her dressing room.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving him away.

oooo

They just barely made it to the house before Lauren pulled up. She waved at Simon standing over the outside grill and let her self in where Paula was working on a salad.

"Hey honey," Paula said. "There's wine over there."

"Thanks," Lauren said. "How was filming?"

"I don't know how people can be so good in the initial audition and just tank in Hollywood," she said. "It's so frustrating."

"I don't miss that part," Lauren admitted. "So..." She made a point to look around the house, and under the table. "Where is my dinner partner?"

"He'll be along," Paula said.

"He?"

"Okay, so it was Simon's idea," Paula warned. "I really don't know your type, so maybe... but if not, blame him."

"Now that's a ringing endorsement," Lauren said. They both heard the sound of a car door closing. "Is that him?"

"Must be," Paula said. Lauren moved to the window.

"No, it isn't. It's just Ryan," Lauren said.

"Um," Paula said, smiling slightly. Lauren looked at her, and her mouth fell open.

"RYAN?" Lauren asked. "SEACREST?"

"It isn't a date, it's just dinner with friends," Paula said. "Don't freak out."

"He's the most sexually ambiguous man I've ever met," Lauren pointed out.

"No!" Paula said. "No, he's straight. Trust me – over the hill pop stars know the gays and Ryan is straight. He's just... picky about his appearance. But give him a chance. He just broke up with this girl we all hated. Think about how nice it would be for him to find a woman who wasn't a gold digger or insane!"

Their conversation was cut short when Ryan and Simon came in, already laughing about something they'd seen earlier that day.

"Hi boys," Paula said. "How is the meat coming?"

"Fine. Not that you'll eat it," Simon said.

"You remembered my veggie burger?" she asked.

"Of course," Simon answered, kissing her lips lightly. "God forbid you have enough usable protein."

"Luckily you aren't my father, so I don't have to do what you say," she retorted.

"Hey! Lauren!" Ryan said, loudly, cutting into the start of another argument.

"Hi Ryan," Lauren said. "Nice to see you again."

"How is the new job coming?" he asked, and they moved to the bar to get Ryan a drink. Paula and Simon watched them start an amiable conversation.

"See?" Simon asked. "I'm a genius."

"Pfft," Paula said. "Lauren was half convinced he was gay until 30 seconds ago."

"She can't be blamed for that," he agreed.

As the evening wore on, everyone got along well.

"I'm going to the new club in West Hollywood tonight, you guys up for it?" Ryan asked.

"Not me," Paula said. "I'm beat."

"Me too," Simon said. "Where Paula goes, so goes my nation."

"But, Lauren lives in West Hollywood. You should go," Paula said.

"Maybe," Lauren said. "I'm not much of a partier."

"I'm an expert," Ryan said. "I'll show you the ropes."

"Okay," Lauren said with a smile. "Sure."

Simon and Paula stood together on the porch and waved Ryan and Lauren off for the night. Simon put his arm over her and held her close.

"Yep," he said. "I'm a genius."

"Okay," she admitted. "Maybe this one time you were right." She pulled his face down and kissed him. "My hero."

"Come on, baby," he said. "Let's go to bed."

It used to be that Simon would be at the club too, but now he was content to go to bed with the woman he loved and let Ryan and Lauren party the night away.

Of course, that was a different love story and Simon was happy with the one he was living.


End file.
